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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904138">Bad Reputation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerparker/pseuds/sunflowerparker'>sunflowerparker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tom Holland (Actor) - Fandom, tom holland - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Blood and Violence, F/M, Mentions of Death, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Substance Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>57,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerparker/pseuds/sunflowerparker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Unwillingly caught up in the life of a well known London mob, Y/N finds love in unlikely places. But is the dangerous lifestyle too much for her to handle?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harrison Osterfield/Reader, Harrison Osterfield/You, Tom Holland/Reader, Tom Holland/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Mercy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The car behind the girls honked aggressively, Olivia’s attention captivated somewhere other than the green light illuminating in front of the intersection. You pivoted in your seat, raising your middle finger to the impatient driver.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Olivia apologized, accelerating through the light. “I just can’t believe they saw me.”</p>
<p>“Who is ‘they,’ Liv? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” you pleaded, facing the road in front of you now.</p>
<p>She sighed. “It’s a really long story.” The steering wheel spun to the right, directing the vehicle down an unfamiliar London street. “And I don’t think you’re going to like it very much.”</p>
<p>“Come on. It can’t be that bad.”</p>
<p>Olivia shook her head. “Oh, it can. And it is.”</p>
<p>“Please?”</p>
<p>“I will tell you, I promise.” Steading one hand on the wheel, Olivia reached behind her seat, dragging her purse into her lap. She rummaged around before pulling out her phone. “I need you to text my cousin, Tom, for me first.”</p>
<p>Eyebrows furrowed, you questioned, “Your cousin? What does your cousin have to do with this?”</p>
<p>Olivia tossed her phone into your lap and shook her head. “Everything.”</p>
<p>“He has everything to do with this?”</p>
<p>“Just do it, Y/N,” she snapped, her tone harsh and demanding. “I’m sorry,” Olivia sighed, changing to a softer voice. “Just please do it.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” you whispered quietly, sinking into your seat at your friend’s outburst. “What’s his name again?”</p>
<p>“Tom. He should be one of the last people I messaged.”</p>
<p>You swiped through her phone, opening up her recent text messages. You quickly found the contact and opened the conversation. “What do you want me to say?”</p>
<p>“Umm,” Olivia started, waving one hand in the air to conjure up an idea, the other gripped firmly on the wheel while her eyes unwavered from the road. “Say … shit, I don’t know. Say something along the lines of ‘just caught at Ritsol’s and need back up.’”</p>
<p>“Need back up?”</p>
<p>Olivia slammed her fist on the steering wheel. “Please, Y/N!”</p>
<p>You looked at your friend driving with wide eyes. “Why the fuck do we need back up? Are we in danger?”</p>
<p>“Just text it! Dammit, Y/N. We don’t have time for this,” Liv pleaded, raising her voice again. She rarely shouted, so you knew the two of you were caught in a serious situation.</p>
<p>You readily obliged, fear starting to form like clouds on a rainy day in your mind. Tapping over the keyboard hastily, you pressed the send button when you had finished the message. “It’s sent.”</p>
<p>Olivia released a large breath of air. “Thank you.” Spinning the wheel, she turned down another unfamiliar road. It was then that you noticed how fast the vehicle was travelling.</p>
<p>“Where are we going?”</p>
<p>“Home.”</p>
<p>“Why are we going this way?”</p>
<p>“Just in case.”</p>
<p>“Just in case of what?”</p>
<p>Olivia glanced over to you for a moment, an exasperated look across her face. “You’re asking too many questions right now. Let me get us home and start packing so we can-”</p>
<p>“Packing? What on earth are we packing for?”</p>
<p>“We need to get out of there, You. We can’t stay there anymore.”</p>
<p>“I don’t understand. Our lease? Our belongings? Are we going to go back for those too?”</p>
<p>“No, those will have to stay. Just pack clothes, toothbrush, those sorts of things. This is a quick in and out stop.”</p>
<p>“Liv, I can’t just pack up my life in ten minutes.” Sweat started to form on your palms; you wiped your clammy hands on the skirt of your dress.</p>
<p>“Well, you’re going to have to try.” Olivia paused before reluctantly adding, “And make it five minutes.”</p>
<p>The car pulled up to the curb beside the apartment building, stopping abruptly on account of how fast Olivia was speeding. The girls unbuckled; Olivia jumped out and started running up the stairs into the building. You followed not far behind.</p>
<p>When you reached the fourth floor, Olivia was already in front of their door. “Grab a bag. Start stuffing.” Her hands trembled and she fumbled with the keys trying to unlock the apartment door.</p>
<p>“Here, let me do it,” you offered, taking the keys and unlocking the door.</p>
<p>The girls separated into their respective rooms to pack. You stood frozen in your doorway. What were you supposed to take with you? How long would you be gone?</p>
<p>Olivia’s phone dinged with a text message. “They’re on their way. They’ll be here in five.”</p>
<p>Your head spun. Who is ‘they’? Why are they running? It was all too much, unfolding so rapidly, and you didn’t even know why you needed to run away from this life. Olivia was acting so strange, so secretive all of a sudden. They used to share all of their secrets.</p>
<p>Slowly, you started putting toiletries in your bag and then clothes.</p>
<p>Olivia poked her head into the room, her own bag already packed. With a frown on her face, she said, “Say your goodbyes.”</p>
<p>Zipping her bag shut, you glanced around the room, not able to believe this might be the last time you would see this place. It had been your home for the better part of a year. The two friends had moved in upon graduating college. You guys had met during a group project freshman year for a business class and quickly hit it off. The pair inseparable, they decided to live together, not being able to bear the thought of living any farther apart once their time at university had come to a close.</p>
<p>With one final scan across the room, you grabbed a book off the dresser, stuffing it in your bag, and walked out of the room.</p>
<p>Heavy knocks rapped on the door.</p>
<p>“Thank god.” Olivia sprinted over to the door. “What took you so-”</p>
<p>The opened door revealed a large man clad in a red button down shirt. A scruffy beard covered the lower part of his mean face, scowl plastered. A gun held in his right hand.</p>
<p>“If I had known it would be this easy, I would’ve come sooner,” he grinned maliciously.</p>
<p>Olivia slowly backed away from the door. The man followed into the apartment, stomping his way towards Liv. She backed into the couch where her bag was sitting. Slipping a hand into her bag, she brandished a knife. Fists and weapons swung wildly in the air, a blur of two bodies attacking one another. Olivia took a hit to the shoulder, the loud smack echoing throughout the apartment. She recovered quickly, charging at the man again. He lost his grip on his gun, the heavy metal weapon falling to the floor with a thud. When Olivia’s knee went clashing with his stomach, he toppled over onto the floor. Teeth gritted, she pounced on top of him.</p>
<p>More footsteps echoed down the hall, picking up their pace at the sound of the scuffle. You braced for the worst, hiding slightly behind the kitchen counter, cursing your cowardice. A young man about your age appeared in the doorway, pointing a glock at the two bodies tussling on the ground.</p>
<p>“Rockland!” he shouted. “Don’t fucking move.”</p>
<p>Liv rolled out of the way; gun shots fired. You trembled. Two more men filed into the room behind the first, all matching in tailored suits.</p>
<p>The first guy wiped the blood spattered across his face with the sleeve of his dress shirt. “What the fuck, Liv!” he roared.</p>
<p>“Don’t come at me right now, Tom,” Olivia shouted back.</p>
<p>“What were you doing at Ritsol’s in the first place?” His stern look sent a shiver down your spine, his handsome features clouded with fury.</p>
<p>Olivia looked over at you instinctively. You swallowed. You had begged your friend to go to the new club opening tonight. Despite her protests, you insisted you would go by yourself if she refused to accompany you. When Olivia had pulled you out of the establishment soon after arriving, you had dismissed it as Liv not enjoying the atmosphere. Clearly, there was something larger at stake. Her glance drew her cousin’s attention. Tom raised his gun and pointed it at you cowering in the kitchen still.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” he demanded, voice laced with unspoken threats. “Stand up.” His tone was steady and unwavering.</p>
<p>You obeyed and stood, arms up, from behind the kitchen counter, his gun following your movements. Your knees trembled, and you had to grasp the counter to retain your balance. His eyes seemed to soften at your petrified state, but it took Olivia physically pulling his arm down for him to relax.</p>
<p>“Put the gun down! She’s my roommate. I’ve told you about her. She’s harmless.”</p>
<p>He turned his attention back to Liv. “She’s not coming with us.”</p>
<p>“What? Why not?”</p>
<p>“I don’t see how she is our responsibility.”</p>
<p>“But she’s in danger now.”</p>
<p>He scoffed at his cousin. “You should’ve thought of that beforehand.”</p>
<p>“Can’t you follow us to my mum’s place?”</p>
<p>“That’s out of the way. I’m going straight home.”</p>
<p>As he started to walk out of the room, the other men followed.</p>
<p>“Tom Holland, don’t you walk away from me,” Liv dared.</p>
<p>Fear struck you like an arrow to her already cold body. You recognized the last name. It was just mentioned on a news report this morning in connection with street violence and drug trafficking. It did not take long for you to piece together that your friend was talking to a member of the mob. The mobster spun around towards his cousin at the mention of his full name, teeth clenched, seething anger out of the sweat droplets collecting on his hairline.</p>
<p>“I don’t run a charity, Olivia.”</p>
<p>“You don’t run jack shit, actually.”</p>
<p>Even in the tense situation, you stifled a giggle. You were usually the subject of Olivia’s sassy nature and it was nice to not be the subject of it for once. Your action caused the other men present to do the same. Tom shot you a glare from across the room.</p>
<p>“If she comes with us, she’s your responsibility. I’m not defending her or you if Dom has a problem with her presence.”</p>
<p>Olivia shuffled over to you and pulled you in for a hug. She whispered that everything was going to be okay, giving you an extra squeeze for reassurance. Taking your hand, she instructed you to grab her things. The pair took one last look around the apartment, saying silent goodbyes to their home, before locking the door behind them. They walked down the stairs and out to the chilly evening air. You shivered and hugged your arms around your body as they scurried over to the car.</p>
<p>Liv noticed as she approached her vehicle that her tires were slashed. “Fucking asshole,” Olivia muttered under her breath, kicking at the deflated, useless rubber.</p>
<p>Impatiently coaxing the girls into the other vehicle, Tom gritted his teeth and warned, “Come on. We haven’t got all night. I’m sure there’s more of them are on the way.”</p>
<p>The girls piled into the blacked out Range Rover, the leather seats cool under their exposed legs. You found yourself squished in between a nice looking blonde boy and Olivia in the middle seat. As the car accelerated, you scanned the occupants of the car; there was a visible resemblance between Olivia and blonde, but not the driver nor Tom whose face was lit up from scrolling through his phone. Liv had blonde hair herself; Tom and the driver sported dark brown locks which seemed to want to curl against the thick gel restraining their natural tendencies.</p>
<p>The car ride was silent, not even music played in the background to relieve the tension between the two cousins. You mentally questioned whether Tom was always ill-tempered or if Liv had prompted a justified reaction out of him. Had she really done something so wrong? His eyes were filled with rage after shooting the man at the mention of the club. Perhaps it belonged to a rival mob, you reasoned.</p>
<p>Liv stared out the window as the streetlights and tall buildings zoomed past. Her arms were folded across her chest and her brows pinched in the middle in frustration. The blonde boy was doing the same, but with a stoic expression.</p>
<p>After a half an hour drive through the city, the vehicle arrived at a towering swinging gate with a guard standing watch. The driver rolled down the window; the guard peered into the car to examine all the passengers before allowing them to pass through. Eyeing you curiously, he squinted at you suspiciously. Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest. When the guard gave a curt nod, signaling to proceed, you finally relaxed a bit. As the car passed through the gate, you noticed an engraved symbol on the black metal bars: HOP.</p>
<p>The house was a mansion with the resemblance of an old church. Immense in size, the grandeur of the estate evident in the stone walls and pristine landscaping. The circular driveway sported a fountain in the center. A statue of cherubs stood erect in the middle of the basin. Luxury cars parked around the circle, lining the driveway. When the headlights from the Range Rover beamed across the fountain, a gleam from the golden words engraved into the base of the statue shined proudly: Holland Osterfield Parish. You bit your lip as you pondered the significance of the family names embellishing the fountain.</p>
<p>When the vehicle was placed in park, you began to sweat. You were outside of the living quarters, and most likely work headquarters, to a well-known mob. This situation was inherently dangerous. These people likely sported weapons of all kinds. You were certain they would not take kindly to your displacement in their home. You were nothing but a stranger to them, unwelcome, uninvited, and in the way.</p>
<p>Everyone slid out of the car; Olivia’s cousin slammed the door particularly harshly. Waiting for no one, he stalked up the stone steps leading into the house.</p>
<p>“Tom …” Liv called out.</p>
<p>He waved his hand dismissively, causing an irritated groan to escape Olivia’s mouth. Sprinting up the steps behind him, her figure disappeared behind the massive wooden doors. You became hyper-aware of the fact you were left alone with two mobsters and decided it would be in your best interest to follow your friend instead of lingering outside. Shuffling into the house, you heard the two men behind you opening the trunk and carrying in the girls’ luggage.</p>
<p>When you entered the foyer, you froze. The magnificent splendor of the house was breath-taking. Everything was lavishly embellished with the same crest on the gate. The marble floors echoed with footsteps all throughout the house. The dark wood furniture stood elegantly against the serenely painted walls.</p>
<p>Just down the hall, Olivia and Tom’s voices were heard thundering insults at each other. The joys of family. The sound made you snicker. You supposed all families had their moments like that, even in the mob.</p>
<p>“I’ll show you where you can stay tonight,” a deep voice spoke from behind you. You turned around to see the blonde boy whom you sat next to during the car ride standing before you. He was much prettier than you expected, not able to catch a glimpse at him for fear of being caught earlier. Wearing a black suit, the top few buttons of his white dress shirt were unclasped. Golden cufflinks reflected the light from the chandelier hanging above them when he extended his hand towards you. “I’m Harrison, by the way. Harrison Osterfield.” His perfect teeth and sweet smile shined brightly, radiating unexpected kindness. Speechlessly, you shook his hand with a timid smile.</p>
<p>He grabbed your bag and carried your belongings up the stairs. You followed once you saw Liv trailing behind with the driver carrying her stuff, talking in hushed whispers amongst themselves. Placing your bags in a guest room to the right of the staircase, he grunted under the weight.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing fancy, but it should do,” Harrison said, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning against the doorway. The extravagant room held a giant bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, and large windows almost reaching the ceiling. Your mouth hung open slightly as you took in your surroundings.</p>
<p>When Harrison determined you were not likely going to speak to him, he spoke again, “Well, if you need anything, the lounge is on the first floor. Second door on the left. That’s probably where you’ll find me.”</p>
<p>He started to round the corner and exit the room. You stuttered, remembering you had not even revealed your name to him. “I-I’m Y/N.”</p>
<p>Stopping abruptly in the doorway at the sound of your gentle voice, he turned to you and smiled.</p>
<p>“You can call me Y/N/N, though,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.</p>
<p>His grin spread even wider at your innocent demeanor, “Goodnight, Y/N.” With a slight nod of his chin, he disappeared down the hallway.</p>
<p>You listened intently as his footsteps trailed back down to the first floor. When you could hear them no longer, you released a large breath of air and plopped down onto the bed. It was unreal the way the night unfolded. Running out of a club with Olivia quickly turned into camping out at a local mob’s mansion. There was still no explanation, still no answers from Liv.</p>
<p>As you were trying to gather the courage to find your friend, Olivia’s figure appeared in the doorway. She was biting her lip and running a hand through her hair.</p>
<p>“So,” she began.</p>
<p>“So,” you imitated.</p>
<p>“I suppose you want answers.”</p>
<p>“Yes. I need answers. I needed answers an hour ago before some random guy showed up at our door and attacked you. I needed answers before your cousin showed up and shot the guy right in the chest.”</p>
<p>Olivia sighed, “Alright.” She took a seat next to you on the bed. “But you have to promise to hear me out.”</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes.</p>
<p>“I’m serious,” Olivia insisted. She held out her pinky finger for you.</p>
<p>Reluctantly, you wrapped her pinky around her friends, signifying she would keep the promise. “I promise,” you reiterated.</p>
<p>“Perhaps I should start by telling you about my family.” She cleared her throat and began to explain. “The Osterfield family has had a long standing tradition of criminal activity. Largely, selling and moving drugs around the city. But about twenty years ago, my uncle Kevin married a woman by the name of Ashlin Holland. As you can probably guess, that’s where the name of the house originated from, the Holland and Osterfield families. Her family consisted of an established, well-known, and respected mob. It made sense that the two of them fell in love with their lifestyles. Anyways, once they were married, he joined the mob. His brothers, my dad included, jumped on board. There was some strife at first with the heavy presence of another family name, my uncle Steven was even killed in a knife fight with one of the Holland clan. But eventually, when Ashlin’s father died, since he was the leader of the mob, she became the heiress, so to speak. She didn’t want to lead, so she passed the position on to her husband. He mysteriously died a couple of years later and Dominic Holland, Tom’s father, took over. He allowed the Osterfield’s to stay even though he was one to oppose the new family at first. Renamed the estate and everything to prove his loyalty.”</p>
<p>Olivia took a deep breath and peered at you from the corner of her eyes. Captivated by every word, Liv decided to continue. “Obviously, this life is not ideal. Which is why I attended college to try to get away from it all. Clearly, I was not successful since we are sitting in one of the many guest rooms of the Holland Osterfield Parish.”</p>
<p>Her eyes were downcast, and guilt leaked out of every word she uttered. You took hold of your friend’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly, urging her to go on.</p>
<p>“Anyways, one of the worst parts about being a Osterfield is all of the rivals. They know our family’s names and faces. They know when we step foot inside of one of their restaurants, bars, stores, clubs,” she emphasized. “I was surprised when they recognized me. I haven’t been around for a few years because of school, but the mob life never takes a break. One of the bouncers kept glancing at me and I knew we had to get out of there.” Olivia paused and looked at you. “I am so sorry for dragging you into this mess. This is all my fault. I should’ve known better than to think I could live a normal life.”</p>
<p>Her sincerity caused your eyes to swell with tears. “Liv, you deserve nothing less than to live a normal life. Don’t beat yourself over this. It’s not your fault. You were practically born into this world.” You rubbed the back of Olivia’s hand.</p>
<p>Liv shook her head. “I should’ve been more careful.”</p>
<p>The two embraced, holding each other like they always did through the hard times. Failed exams, break ups, depressing movies. Nothing was different about Olivia. Only now, her last name held meaning, a consequence, wherever she went. You couldn’t care less. Their friendship meant more to you than her family’s choices.</p>
<p>“How come you never told me about this?” you gently inquired.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know how you would react. Telling someone your family is in a mob is not exactly a way to win anyone over.”</p>
<p>You smiled softly, understanding why your friend had concealed this aspect of her life from her friends for so long.</p>
<p>“So do you live here?”</p>
<p>“No. I don’t. I stayed here during the summers when school was out and mom worked. But my mother and I lived in a separate house down the road to make my life as normal as possible.”</p>
<p>Humming in contemplation, you asked, “Who all lives here then?”</p>
<p>“Let’s see … RDom Holland and his wife, Nicki. Their kids Tom, Harry, and Sam (they’re twins), and Paddy. My dad. My aunt, Sarah Osterfield, and her children: Harrison and Renee. A couple of others as well. It’s a hodgepodge of Holland’s and Osterfield’s. Whoever wants to live here is able to. There’s even other houses on the property for the crew.”</p>
<p>“Wow. Busy house.”</p>
<p>Olivia laughed and shook her head. “You have no idea.”</p>
<p>She paused in reflection and turned to you. “No more lies?”</p>
<p>“No more lies.”</p>
<p>Olivia hugged you again, and wished you goodnight. Olivia slept in another guest room right down the hall. Unsurprisingly, with all of the events transpiring, you hardly slept, overly conscious of the activities and scheming taking place inside the walls of the house. You felt oddly safe surrounded by Olivia’s family who had already demonstrated their willingness to go through great lengths to keep you from harm, it was the other individuals whose loyalties likely did not extend quite as far that provoked uneasiness that settled in your gut.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In My Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Muffled voices stirred you awake the next morning. You yawned, sleep looming over your closed eyes, waiting for a moment’s rest to dive back into your dreamworld.</p>
<p>Though closed and locked, the wooden door could not conceal the tap of men’s dress shoes against the stone floors as heavy footsteps approached. You rubbed harsh circles at your eyes, willing yourself to alertness at the prospect of being greeted by an unexpected visitor. The tapping stopped as a shadow appeared under the crack of the door, indicating the presence of the source of the noise. Three light raps sounded on the other side.</p>
<p>You threw back the blankets and swung your legs over the side of the bed, standing hastily, not wanting your visitor to be kept waiting. Shuffling over to the door, the beat of your heart picked up pace with the anticipation of coming face to face with another stranger. You twisted the lock and opened the door.</p>
<p>A familiar smiling face beamed down at you. His hair was gelled in place this morning, the blonde locks no longer free to curl slightly at the ends. In the light of the day, his captivating eyes cast an intense gaze upon your person, trailing from the knotted hair on the top of your head to your ratty old t-shirt to your exposed legs and bare feet. They returned their focus to your face, unashamed of their previous endeavor. You blushed madly under his fixed stare and your reaction only prompted his smirk to slyly widen.</p>
<p>“Well good morning, sleeping beauty,” Harrison teased, his voice low and raspy from having just started his day as well. “I’ve been sent by Liv to escort you to the kitchen for breakfast.”</p>
<p>“O-oh,” you stuttered, caught off guard by the whole situation. “Let me change first.”</p>
<p>Harrison nodded slightly, eyes unwavering from your figure moving around the room in search of your bag. You found a pair of jeans and a cardigan and placed them on the bed. Feeling Harrison’s eyes on you still, you coughed to try to stir his attention elsewhere so you could change in peace.</p>
<p>The man did not move. He was playing a game with you, you could tell. He wanted you to ask him to look away. And while part of you wanted to prove him wrong and do it anyways, you could not bring yourself to change in front of a stranger, an attractive stranger, and a mobster, no less.</p>
<p>You cleared your throat. “Harrison?”</p>
<p>He batted his eyelashes at you in feigned innocence. “Yes, darling?”</p>
<p>The nickname caused heat to rise to your face again. “Would you mind waiting outside the door while I change?”</p>
<p>His cheeky smirk sent shivers down your spine as he said, “Of course. Your wish is my command.”</p>
<p>The man stayed in the doorway, but turned around to face the hallway. You rolled your eyes. Not wanting to play into his game any more than you already had, you changed quickly with your eyes boring into the back of his person to ensure he was not about to turn around. His head did tilt slightly to the left as he attempted to peer at you from the corner of his eye, but you were already dressed.</p>
<p>Turning back around to face you completely, Harrison asked, “Ready?”</p>
<p>Not meeting his eyes, you replied affirmatively.</p>
<p>As you followed Harrison out of the room and into the hallway, the voices that woke you up became clearer. Looking down the hall, Tom stood near the end in a heated conversation with another man in a black suit. A lock of hair fell over his forehead, resting on his face gingerly, disrupting his composed venner, the rest of it slicked back much like Harrison’s. You paused in the doorway, marveling at him. He carried himself with such poise – illustrious, aristocratic, and haughty. Tom was like royalty in this house, and he theatrically exuded his status in posture and demeanor as he spoke to the other man. You pondered whether it was all a facade or his true character.</p>
<p>Your pensive state did not go unnoticed by the esteemed mobster as his attention shifted to the girl staring at him. Tom’s chin seemed to lift a little higher and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as your mouth fell open slightly. Promptly turning your gaze to the other side of the hall where Harrison was standing, you sucked in your bottom lip.</p>
<p>“You coming or not?” Harrison asked, his flirtatious banter no longer present as impatience and annoyance took its place.</p>
<p>You nodded your head and scurried along the marble floors and past many framed extravagant paintings. You trailed a short distance behind him as the two of you wandered the halls until coming across the kitchen.</p>
<p>The room was quite spacious. Numerous cabinets hung over long stretches of granite countertops. A lengthy island sat in the middle of the room, bar stools lined along the end facing away from the kitchen. Perched on the end of the row of chairs was Olivia. Her hair was twisted into a knot on top of her head as well, baggy clothes on her form indicating she had yet to switch out of her pajamas. You waltzed over to your friend, grateful to be in the company of just her, no more unfamiliar persons in sight.</p>
<p>“There you are,” she sighed. “I thought you were going to sleep all day.”</p>
<p>Never being one to sleep in, Olivia often found herself awake hours before her roommate, waiting impatiently for you to wake up. You were frequently bombarded with Liv spurting questions and ideas at you as soon as you opened your eyes in the morning, Olivia unable to contain the silence in the apartment any longer.</p>
<p>Harrison chuckled at the accusation and you sunk into your seat.</p>
<p>“Shall I make breakfast for the lovely ladies this morning?” he offered, leaning forward on his palms on the other side of the island. His rolled up sleeves of his white dress shirt revealed the veins in his arms. They were protruding slightly under the weight of his body and you couldn’t help your eyes from tracing the lines up his arm to the place they disappeared underneath the fabric.</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow at her cousin, Liv retorted, “What a gentleman. I think we would appreciate that very much. Y/N?”</p>
<p>Both pairs of Osterfield eyes landed on you. “Yes, please,” you mumbled shyly.</p>
<p>“Coming right up, then.”</p>
<p>Your eyes lingered on his face as Harrison walked over to the stove to start fixing breakfast. Liv followed your gaze and leaned in towards you. “He’s a pretty boy, isn’t he?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I see you eyeing my cousin. Don’t play dumb with me.”</p>
<p>You cleared your throat, embarrassed that you got caught. “I mean, he’s definitely not hard to look at.”</p>
<p>Olivia laughed loudly. “I’m just messing with you.”</p>
<p>Harrison prepared pancakes for the three of you. It was odd, at first, for you to observe the unconventional family interact like a stereotypical close-knit family, not that you had one of your own to compare them to. They were cousins bonded by much more than familial relation. They were bonded by blood. The blood flowing through their veins and the blood of anyone who dared provoke the Hollands or Osterfields, that much was evident from the previous night. Tom did not even hesitate or demand an explanation upon seeing his cousin in danger. He shot first, asked questions later. While some might think of the act as immoral, imprudent, or avoidable, to them, it was deeply rooted in their veins, their very existence. In this Parish, blood was everything.</p>
<p>Just as the last food off the plates had been stuffed into their mouths, Tom walked into the room. He stared out the window as the room fell silent, continuing walking until he stood in front of the trio. His gaze quickly pivoted from outside to you as he came to a halt. Deep eyes bore into you as Tom studied your face. His jaw appeared tight. The same strand of hair hung across his forehead from earlier. You were holding your breath, unsure of his heavy gaze. When his eyes moved off your figure and to his cousins, you relaxed a bit.</p>
<p>“We have a meeting in five minutes,” he stated. “And I would like it if you attended, Olivia.” His tone was tense; he seemed to restrain irritation.</p>
<p>When Liv’s fists clenched under the island counter, you concluded they must not have resolved their dispute from the night before.</p>
<p>“If that’s what you want, Tom.”</p>
<p>“It is,” he folded his hands into his pockets.</p>
<p>“Then I will be there.”</p>
<p>He nodded his head curtly, head held high at the obvious reluctant submission of his cousin.</p>
<p>Your eyes went wide at her next remark.</p>
<p>“Can Y/N join us too?”</p>
<p>Locking eyes with you again, you felt small under his heavy, relentless stare. He studied you like a work of literature, as if he could read you like a book. Every slight movement, every glance, every word uttered translated into a work he could open effortlessly, analyzing and articulating into his own understanding and then place back on a shelf to be revisited as his leisure. What he was searching for, you were unsure. Perhaps fear to ensure his secrets would be kept. Or a thread of morbid curiosity, which surely you possessed.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he agreed, an ounce of hesitation in his response. No one but you seemed to take notice, however.</p>
<p>Olivia chipperly announced she would go change and for Harrison to keep you company while she was gone. As she walked out of the kitchen, Tom followed suit. When they were no longer in sight, you overheard him apologize for his angry outburst following last night’s events to which Olivia reciprocated her regretful choice of words and actions leading up to needing his assistance.</p>
<p>You and Harrison cleaned up the mess from breakfast, making small talk as you passed dirty dishes and soapy sponges between the two of you. His flirtatious demeanor returned as he poked fun at how tired you looked this morning.</p>
<p>“Well if you had just discovered your roommate and best friend’s family was in a mob, and some rival gang member broke into your house and attacked your roommate, and you ended up leaving your life behind to go stay with the mob, don’t you think you would have a little trouble sleeping as well?” you questioned bluntly.</p>
<p>He hummed in response, chuckling at your straight-forward answer. “I suppose I might,” he said, winking an eye at you.</p>
<p>The pair dried their hands and Harrison led you into the room the meeting was being held. It looked much like a conference room, a long wooden table sitting in the middle of the space. Numerous cushioned chairs lined the table with the initials “H.O.” engraved on the backrest. With his hand resting on your lower back, Harrison guided you to sit in a specific spot, likely knowing where the other attendees usually sat.</p>
<p>He pulled the chair out for you, motioning with his hand for you to sit down. You thanked him quietly as other mobsters began filing into the room. Harrison sat next to you, Olivia joining you on the other side. You felt safer this way, two familiar bodies creating a barrier between you and the others present.</p>
<p>Clearing his throat, Tom gathered the room’s attention at the head of the table. It was only then that you dared to look around at the other occupants of the conference room. Mostly men, some donned scruffy beards, some with young faces, some with cigarettes hanging loosely from their lips, smoke drifting lazily into the air. The women were fierce, unreckoned visages in their mannerisms. All of them held an ornery countenance; they luckily seemed indifferent to your presence in the room.</p>
<p>As Tom described a plan of action for an exchange of a supply of drugs for an abundance of weapons, the room was captivated, hanging on to his every word. For the mob, it was to follow instructions from their second in command; for you, it was his enrapturing aura. He was a natural born leader, you could sense it. The way in which he spoke so confidently, meticulous about the details, sure of the plan. When any of the members questioned an aspect of the arrangement, he had an answer. Tom was quick-witted and unwavering in his ideas.</p>
<p>He rarely caught a glimpse of you, but when he did, your back straightened slightly, conscious of his watchful eye on you. You smiled tenderly at him. Though you could not be certain, you could have sworn he returned the expression in the way his eyes softened before returning his focus to the rest of the group.</p>
<p>“Dismissed,” he ordered at the end of answering all of the attendee’s questions.</p>
<p>The collective noise of chairs scooting against the hardwood floors filled the air. The smell of smoke slowly diminished as bodies paraded out of the room. Olivia took Harrison by the arm, dragging him across the room for a private conversation, leaving you alone. You stood behind your chair, trying not to make eye contact with any person exiting the meeting for fear of stirring up unwanted trouble.</p>
<p>“I didn’t deem you as the party-girl type,” a voice startled you from behind.</p>
<p>You spun around to find herself face to face with Tom. You swallowed, your voice seemed to catch in your throat. Clearing it, you responded, flustered, “I’m not. Not usually. I, uh, I just like the dancing.”</p>
<p>He hummed in response and you crossed your arms over your chest nervously, not knowing why Tom would want to strike up a conversation with you.</p>
<p>“I wanted to apologize for pointing my gun at you,” he said. “It was nothing personal. You can never be too cautious in my line of work.”</p>
<p>“No hard feelings. Thanks for letting me stay here, by the way. You have a very beautiful home.”</p>
<p>His lips tightened to form a thin line. “Liv is family. I would do anything for family.”</p>
<p>You recalled the lifeless body on their living room floor.“I could tell,” you whispered with a small smile.</p>
<p>Tom returned the grin, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards just slightly.</p>
<p>A nudge to your ribcage earned Olivia your attention. She had a sly smile and a raised eyebrow like she had just walked in on a scandalous conversation. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought despite the lack of inappropriate content in your exchange with Tom.</p>
<p>“How about a movie tonight?” Harrison suggested, slinging his arm around Tom and looking at the girls.</p>
<p>“I’m down,” Liv chimed.</p>
<p>You nodded your head in agreement, reluctantly giving in to the idea of spending another night amongst a house full of criminals.</p>
<p>“Movie night it is,” Tom concluded, buttoning his suit jacket.</p>
<p>Later that evening, you followed Olivia to a small, in relation to the rest of the house, living room with three couches and a large television. The bookshelf in the corner showcased a multitude of movies. Harrison squatted in front of it, reading off titles until Liv insisted on watching a horror film. Normally, you would protest, but since Harrison also agreed, you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come.</p>
<p>After he placed the movie in the DVD player, Harrison took a seat on the couch next to Olivia, leaving you alone on your own sofa. It was likely for the best as you expected to just hide yourself under the throw blanket for the majority of the next two hours.</p>
<p>As the film started to play, your mind wandered to the person missing from the room.</p>
<p>“Where’s Tom?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could manage.</p>
<p>Harrison scoffed. “Saw some girl sneak into his room just before I came down here. Wouldn’t count on him showing up anytime soon.”</p>
<p>A frown took over your face. Of course a guy like Tom had a girl. You were dubious the girl held the title of girlfriend. He did not seem the type nor did his lifestyle really give him a choice in the matter, in your opinion. A twenty-something year old mobster in a committed relationship? Doubtful.</p>
<p>Although your interactions with Tom have been scarce since your arrival at the Parish, your stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else. You couldn’t explain it or even rationalize it, but you were drawn to him. His ‘bad boy’ front did not deter you from wanting to know the Tom behind the persona. But you dismissed the feeling as loneliness, the desire for a partner in general, not the very man that protested you accompanying Olivia to safety the night prior.</p>
<p>Harrison was right. It was nearly an hour into the movie before Tom showed up. Casually strolling into the room, he plopped down next to you on the couch. You glanced at the door behind him, half expecting a girl to be following in tow. He caught you looking and deduced exactly what you were keeping an eye out for.</p>
<p>“They don’t stick around,” he whispered.</p>
<p>You blushed at being called out for your snooping. You did care, but you didn’t want him to know that. They had just met and he might think you were being creepy or judgmental. So you merely mumbled an “oh” in response.</p>
<p>Pulling your knees into your chest, the music grew more intense, the scene on the screen unfolding unfavourably for the main character. A loud scream boomed through the speakers, causing you to jump in your seat. Tom shook his head and chuckled lightly at your reaction.</p>
<p>As the movie progressed, you instinctively inched closer to Tom. Each jump or sinking into the cushion placed you in closer proximity to him. It was not until the film ended and Tom lifted his hand off your thigh that you realized it had been there in the first place. The cold from the lack of contact made you shiver even with the blanket covering your body. It had not been sexual in nature, no advance or insinuation; it was comforting, compassionate, innocent. That was a word you never foresaw ascribing to a member of the mob.</p>
<p>Under the guise of readjusting your blanket, you stood slightly and scooted back to your original position on the couch, away from Tom. You needed space to clear your wandering mind.</p>
<p>“Shall we watch another?” Harrison suggested after the credits finished scrolling across the screen.</p>
<p>Elated, Liv readily agreed.</p>
<p>Tom groaned at the prospect of another and said that he was going to fall asleep.</p>
<p>As Harrison got up to pick out the next film, Liv vetoing choices until she found one she liked, Tom turned to you and asked, “Would it bother you if I laid down?” He motioned to the space between them.</p>
<p>“No, not at all.” You pulled your legs even closer to your person,trying to make yourself as small as possible to ensure he had plenty of room.</p>
<p>Tugging at his sleeve, Tom removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the couch. He stepped on the heel of his dress shoes so he could slip out of them. As he did so, you studied the side profile of his face. The way his chiseled jaw added to his cutting persona; his deep brown eyes enchanting anyone under their gaze; the way his teeth held his lower lip as he concentrated keenly. When he leaned back to recline on the couch, he turned and asked, “Actually, can I use you as a pillow?”</p>
<p>The question took you by surprise, taking you a few moments to reply. “Oh. Um, yeah.”</p>
<p>Readjusting yourself again so he could use your thigh as a headrest, you watched Tom rest his head on your lap. To say it was strange to have a dangerous member of a mob cuddled up next to you would be the understatement of the year. He was feared by his own crew, likely rival mobs as well. He had shot a man in front of you. Yet, the man laying next to you was far from striking fear into your heart.</p>
<p>Your heart did race, but not for fear of your life. It was seeing Tom look so vulnerable, sleepy, contentedly watching movies with his friends who also doubled as cousins on a night off.</p>
<p>Liv cleared her throat, catching your attention. She gave you a look, a look that you knew meant they would be discussing the situation later. But as she glanced between you and her cousin, Olivia simpered.</p>
<p>Her approval made your heart swell. Perhaps you had prompted him to relax for once. You could only imagine the amount of stress Tom carried around day in and day out with the weight of his responsibilities on his shoulders.</p>
<p>Only half an hour passed in the second film before soft snores escaped Tom’s mouth as you combed your fingers through his locks that had fallen loose throughout the day. The residual gel left your fingers sticky, but you didn’t mind.</p>
<p>At first, you had subconsciously started playing with his hair. When you caught yourself in the act, you quickly stopped out of fear that your touch was unwanted. But Tom tilted his head back to look up at you, silently asking for you to continue. You did, brushing your fingers soothingly across his scalp, and he sighed under your touch, relaxing back into his place on the couch.</p>
<p>At the end of the movie, Harrison jumped at the opportunity to scare his cousin who was still sleeping peacefully – literally. He plopped down right on top of Tom. You flinched out fear of his reaction. And you were right to do so.</p>
<p>Instinctively, Tom swung his fist at Harrison. Both boys groaned at their respective impacts before bursting into a fit of laughter. It was the first time you had seen Tom truly smile. And the sincere laugh falling from his lips infectiously made you join in.</p>
<p>And for the first time since you arrived at Holland-Osterfield Parish, you felt completely at ease. Your best friend and her cousins, watching movies, messing around.</p>
<p>From the outside, no one would know this family led imminently perilous lives. They joked and played just like any other family. In a way it saddened you as you reflected on the life you lived with your parents years ago.</p>
<p>As soon as you had moved out, your relationship with them became alienated at best. Not for any reason other than distance. Conversations were awkward, you felt like you no longer belonged in the household when you visited for holidays. Not that you had previously, but even more so now that you lived in the city, hours away.</p>
<p>“I could go for a cigar right about now. Ladies, care to join?” Tom asked, interrupting your reflections of a life that seemed so far in the past now.</p>
<p>“Oo, yes,” Liv said.</p>
<p>The boys led the girls to the upper deck of the mansion. It was mostly covered, save for the circular bench surrounding a fire pit off to the left of the house. There was an “L” shaped lounging area looking over the vast property of the Parish where the group sat. Your eyes scanned the backyard below. A giant pool and hot tub, extravagant outdoor kitchen under the veranda, cabanas lining the pool deck, multiple outdoor dining sets. The house did not lack luxury in any aspect.</p>
<p>The back of the property disappeared into a cloud of trees, but a gravel road cut a trail through the woods. Smaller, less extravagant houses could be seen through the forestry. The only unspectacular aspect of the estate was a warehouse building located to the left of the grassy field. A couple of black SUVs sat parked outside and a few men in suits shuffled around the area.</p>
<p>Harrison pulled out a lighter from his jacket pocket and flicked it so the flame danced against the end of his cigar. When the ambers lit to his satisfaction, he passed the lighter to Tom.</p>
<p>You gawked at the way the smoke billowed into the air from their lips after a puff, the manner in which the cigar dangled from their fingers in between breaths, how powerful the men appeared by such a simple act.</p>
<p>He must have noticed your staring because Harrison soon stood up and walked over to sit next to you on the outdoor sofa, their knees resting against each other.</p>
<p>“Here,” he said, offering the cigar to you.</p>
<p>You cringed slightly. “I don’t know how.”</p>
<p>When a chuckle left Tom’s mouth at the exchange, a blush formed on your cheeks. But you were soon put at ease when Olivia asked to be taught how to do it next.</p>
<p>Harrison placed the cigar to his lips. “Watch me first.” He demonstrated how to do it slowly, you watching the way his lips wrapped around the stick, exhaling and then inhaling before releasing new smoke into the air with the cigar pulled away from his mouth. Gently directing the smoke in your direction, the smell of coffee beans and pepper wafted in the air around you. The aroma was oddly pleasant, and you were now even more eager to experience it first hand. “Now-” Harrison lifted the cigar to your lips, urging you to wrap your mouth around the end- “blow out a little bit first, then inhale slowly. You can keep the smoke in your mouth for a second or two to taste it before letting go.”</p>
<p>You tried to do as instructed, you truly did. It felt odd blowing out before breathing in, but you did it anyways. When you inhaled, the sensation of smoke in your mouth was overwhelming. Immediately breaking out into a coughing fit, you pulled away from the stick, echoes of smoke departing your mouth with each choke of air.</p>
<p>“What did you do wrong, darling?” Harrison asked playfully, patting your back quite unhelpfully.</p>
<p>“You didn’t stop her from taking too much in, mate,” Tom pointed out, successfully puffing out a stream of smoke from his barely parted lips. He was slouched in his seat, a leg crossed over the other in an imperial stance, adjusting his Rolex that adorned his wrist. It seemed natural for Tom to exude power in whatever he did.</p>
<p>Harrison rolled his eyes and offered you another puff after you had finally stopped coughing, tears still pricking your eyes. You shook your head no, declining the offer.</p>
<p>Apparently all of your hacking had not deterred Olivia as she shouted, “Me next!”</p>
<p>And much to your dismay, your friend succeeded in her first attempt, blissfully exhaling with a grin on her face. Nose wrinkled and a pout playing on your lips, you scowled humorously at your friend’s achievement. The facial expression did not go unnoticed by Tom as an audacious smirk presented itself on his lips as he watched you curiously.</p>
<p>The rest of the night was passed with banter and conversation alike. By the time your eyelids could barely stay open, you considered the two men in your company new friends.</p>
<p>The events of the evening became a regular pass time for the group of four, celebrating shared nights off with two movies and cigars on the terrace afterwards. You looked forward to it every time, craving the simple touch of Tom’s thigh pressed against your own as the film played on the television.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Perfectly Wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Uugh,” Olivia groaned, resting her head on top of the mountain of papers on the previous accountant’s desk.</p>
<p>You lifted your eyes from the page of your book, tilting your head at your friend’s exasperation.</p>
<p>You had been watching her for hours, crunching numbers and shuffling through old paperwork. Tom had asked her to take over for the old accountant who was dismissed from his position since the numbers would not line up. Money was missing and unaccounted for, and that was never good for business.</p>
<p>As much as you loved taking classes with Olivia in university, you knew from her grades that accounting was not her best subject. She preferred the marketing side of business rather than the financial side. You, on the other hand, lived for the numbers and the satisfaction of having all of the accounts add up correctly. So when you took the bait and asked the question, you already anticipated what Olivia was going to say next.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, Liv?</p>
<p>Pouting her lips, Olivia looked at you with pleading eyes. “Y/N/N, you know I wouldn’t ask you unless I really needed help.”</p>
<p>You sighed dramatically. In a way, she was asking you to corroborate in criminal activity, which was not something you were keen on. But the prospect of getting actual experience in the field you wished to find a job in was, luckily for Olivia, enough to justify your decision to your conscience.</p>
<p>“Fine. I’ll help,” you conceded, closing your book.</p>
<p>Olivia squealed with delight, throwing her arms around you and hugging you tightly. “Thank you. Thank you.”</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes playfully and got right to work sorting through the files. It took a while since the previous accountant had not cared enough to audit the accounts, but you finally managed to find most of the missing money.</p>
<p>Part of your new job required you to drop off the payroll in Tom’s office for him to sign off on every Friday. In the beginning, the visits were direct and strictly business as you did not wish to overstay your welcome. However, as time passed, you found yourself lingering longer, conversing with Tom while he poured two glasses of whiskey from his personal bar cart, asking how your day was going and filling you in on what assignments he had the following week while you took your seat in one of the cushioned chairs positioned in front of his desk.</p>
<p>Occasionally, when the papers piled up and he could not manage the time for a chat, Tom insisted you stay and read a book from his library lining the wall of his office, explaining that he simply enjoyed your company and it helped him to focus.</p>
<p>You happily obliged, preferring the silent companionship to the overbearing solitude of your room while Olivia visited her mother on Fridays. Every now and then, when your gaze lifted from the page of your book, you caught Tom looking away from you, pulling heat to your cheeks as you struggled to refocus on the words on the page.</p>
<p>Today was like any other Friday. Olivia left right after breakfast to spend the day with her mother, leaving you and the office to yourself. You finished up earlier than usual, sorting the checks for payroll neatly on your desk as a headache started to pound under your skull. You checked the clock. It was a couple hours sooner than you usually visited Tom, but you decided to drop it off anyways, needing to lay down and rest your throbbing head.</p>
<p>Shuffling down the corridor to Tom’s office, you walked past the sweet little staffy that roamed the halls regularly. You bent down to pat the pup on the head. “Hey there, Tess,” you cooed, giggling to yourself as she seemed to beam brightly back up at you.</p>
<p>Tessa continued trotting down the hall, tail wagging cheerfully, and you made your way to the thick wooden door of Tom’s office. You were still chuckling to yourself about how cute Tess was that you forgot to knock.</p>
<p>Swinging the door wide, your jaw dropped and you quickly shielded your eyes behind the papers. How you hadn’t heard the noises from the hall, you truly did not know. But it was too late, you had seen much more of Tom and the girl than you would like to admit.</p>
<p>“Shit,” you cursed, slamming the door shut behind you and racing back down the hallway. Your heart was pounding and your stomach felt like it had dropped.</p>
<p>After a few seconds, you heard Tom chasing after you, fumbling to pull up his trousers and buttoning his shirt along the way.</p>
<p>“Y/N/N, wait!”</p>
<p>You stopped in your tracks, embarrassment and regret settling in by the second as you tried to hide the flushness of your face.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see that,” he explained, buckling the belt around his waist.</p>
<p>You stuttered, surprised you were able to find your words at all as you refused to look him in the eye. “I-it’s fine, Tom. I should’ve knocked.”</p>
<p>You handed the stack of papers to him. “Here. I just came to drop these off.”</p>
<p>Tom took them from your hands silently, his mostly unbuttoned shirt left most of his abs on display. You licked your lips, your mouth feeling suddenly dry as you tore your eyes away from his person.</p>
<p>As you started to walk away from him, Tom combed his fingers through his hair in frustration, tugging on the roots. “I swear it won’t happen again.”</p>
<p>Without looking back, you walked straight to the end of the hall. Your stomach turned with jealousy, and your face still burned with embarrassment.</p>
<p>There were moments that you could have sworn Tom had some sort of feelings for you – passing touches that were a little too friendly, deep conversations, sweet lingering smiles hanging from his lips.</p>
<p>But then there were moments like the one you had just encountered in his office. Girls would come in composed and well-dressed and then leave in disarray, evidence of their purpose being fulfilled. It stung every time you saw a new girl, occasionally the same one, enter his room with giggles falling from her lips. And each time, you reminded yourself that you were just reading into things too much. You were just an uninvited guest in his kingdom, nothing more.</p>
<p>The boy was trouble. But the issue was, trouble never had a pretty face and a cheeky smile hiding those wicked acts before. Trouble never looked so goddamn enticing.</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes and pushed through, holding your head high with a touch more dignity than the other girls that passed through these halls. Just as you rounded the corner, you bumped shoulders with someone hard.</p>
<p>“Hey. Watch where you’re going,” Harrison chastised playfully, rubbing the place of impact.</p>
<p>You chewed on your bottom lip. “Sorry. I guess I was just distracted.”</p>
<p>“No worries,” he said. After scanning your face and noticing your distress, Harrison tilted his head at you. “I was just about to get a drink from the lounge. Care to join?”</p>
<p>You had yet to enter the lounge on the first floor of the mansion. Olivia told you that was the room most of the crew hung out in their spare time. Fearing your presence would disturb them, you vowed to stay far away from that room of the house.</p>
<p>Your reluctance quite evident in your tone, you responded, “Oh, I don’t know, Haz.”</p>
<p>“Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise.”</p>
<p>His eyes seemed to sparkle and how could you say no to his charming smile?</p>
<p>“Alright, fine,” you found yourself saying.</p>
<p>You followed Harrison into the lounge, treading close behind him as the room came into view. It was quite a large room, filled with red leather couches and booths. There were a few poker tables and pool tables scattered along the back of the room, men in suits bustling around the area with cigarettes hanging from their lips. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice your presence, so you relaxed a bit as Harrison led you to the bar.</p>
<p>It was a small area with only a few stools lining the counter, but the amount of liquor bottles sitting on the shelves behind the bar made it seem like it was enough for an entire pub.</p>
<p>Tapping one of the stools, Harrison indicated where he wanted you to sit as he rounded the other side of the bar.</p>
<p>“What shall the lady have?” he asked, gesturing to the different coloured glass bottles.</p>
<p>You slid onto the stool, resting your elbows on the sticky counter. “Whiskey.”</p>
<p>Harrison raised an eyebrow, and you smiled. “Whiskey?”</p>
<p>“Whiskey.”</p>
<p>“Alright. Whiskey it is.”</p>
<p>Grabbing two shot glasses from the bar, Harrison filled you and him both a shot of the brown liquor.</p>
<p>“Cheers,” you both said as you lifted the glass and downed the burning liquid.</p>
<p>Harrison pulled your empty glass towards him, filling it to the brim once more. “I have to go take care of something really fast with a few guys over there.” He motioned with his chin to the back by the pool tables. “I promise I won’t be gone long. Just stay here and I’ll be back shortly.”</p>
<p>Your heart thumped faster at the thought of being left alone to fend for yourself, but you felt better knowing he wasn’t leaving you alone in the room. You nodded your head, downing the second shot of whiskey in the hopes it would ease your nerves.</p>
<p>Not more than a minute after Harrison left you, a young man that reeked of scotch and smoke approached you. He clumsily slid onto the stool next to you, his curly hair bouncing as he settled in his seat. “I’m Harry,” he said, holding out his hand.</p>
<p>You nervously checked over your shoulder for any sign of Harrison, but you could not find the familiar blond locks in the sea of unfamiliar faces. You gulped, and tried to put on a brave face as you turned to face Harry.</p>
<p>“Y/N,” you said, shaking his hand cordially.</p>
<p>He reached over the counter and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, filling your glass again. Nudging the sloshing liquid towards you, he silently insisted you take the shot. You did, and wiped the remnants from your lips.</p>
<p>Harry rested his hand on your lower back as he observed you. “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here?”</p>
<p>His hand placement started to make you feel uneasy, so you nudged it away as you answered, “Harrison brought me.”</p>
<p>Harry hummed, unfazed, and placed his hand back on you, even lower than the last time. “Well I don’t see Harrison around here, do you?”</p>
<p>Tilting his head, Harry licked his lips as he gave you a once over with his eyes. You shivered at his unwanted stare, and swatted his hand away again.</p>
<p>“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, we’re going to have a problem,” you threatened, surprised at your own courage.</p>
<p>“Is that right, darling?” he smirked smugly, returning his hand to your ass for the final time.</p>
<p>Your lips tightened into a thin line as you turned to Harry and slapped him hard across the face. The whole room fell silent upon hearing the impact, and all eyes fell on the red-faced boy and the fuming girl.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Harry finally seemed to sober up and get the message and left you alone, stomping out of the room, tail between his legs at the rejection. You scanned the bewildered crowd for Harrison’s face, but came up empty in your search again. You huffed and stormed out of the lounge, headed straight for your room, renewing your vow to never go back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Later that evening, once you had finally calmed down from the previous events, you ventured out to the terrace for some fresh air. You didn’t blame Harrison or even Harry, no matter how much of a jerk he had been. Harry was drunk and Harrison made no promises to stay in the lounge, so you decided to push past it all and start with a clean slate tomorrow. It was a humble reminder of where you were and whose company you were in.</p>
<p>When you opened the door to the deck, your eyes landed on Tom standing alone outside, smoking a cigar. Trusting your friendship had reached the level where you could bother him even if he was content being on his own, you stepped onto the terrace to speak to him.</p>
<p>You walked over to Tom, leaning your forearms against the railing, mirroring his position. His gaze did not waver from the property as he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the cool night air.</p>
<p>When he was done, he finally looked over at you watching him intently. Wordlessly offering you the cigar, you took it from his grasp, fingers brushing, and hesitantly put it to your lips.</p>
<p>“Blow out just a little bit,” Tom instructed, his voice raspy from the smoke, the smell of the cigar wafting into your nose as his face was close to yours. “There you go. Now breathe in gently, not a lot.”</p>
<p>You watched him for a signal for when to stop. With a slight nod of his head, he advised you to halt.</p>
<p>“Taste good?” he questioned. You nodded your head affirmatively, mouth still full of smoke. “Now let it out.”</p>
<p>At your exhale, Tom praised, “Atta girl, princess.”</p>
<p>One of his curls fell into his face, dangling above his eyes, as one corner of his mouth tugged upwards.</p>
<p>“Princess?” you managed to squeeze out, suppressing the need to cough.</p>
<p>Tom’s smirk widened upon seeing the blush on your face. He opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped himself, changing the subject.</p>
<p>“You know, you’re like a cat. You seem sweet and innocent, running around all friendly. But you’ve got claws. And you’re not afraid to use them from what my brother tells me.”</p>
<p>Your lips formed a tight line. “So you know about what happened?”</p>
<p>Tom laughed. “I know everything that goes on in this place, darling.” He examined your face, eyes following the distress in your brows as he extinguished what was left of the cigar rather bluntly. “He deserved it. Shouldn’t have been touching you like that. Fucking prick.”</p>
<p>You lightened up at his reassurance, shoulders relaxing after hearing you shared the same opinion of Harry.</p>
<p>“Come on.” Tom motioned with his head towards the door. “Let’s get you inside. It’s too cold to be out here for long.”</p>
<p>He followed you to your room, the random men in the hallways actually stepping out of their way for you for once, and then wished you goodnight before retiring to his own room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning, you were woken up to excited knocks on your door. When you swung it open, Tom was standing in the hall holding a giant cookbook that looked like it had never been opened before.</p>
<p>“Breakfast?” he asked, raising his unruly eyebrow at you.</p>
<p>You covered the confused look on your face with a fake yawn and nodded your head, not expecting Tom or a cookbook to be waiting by your door this morning.</p>
<p>Tom insisted on being called ‘Head Chef’ since he could “follow a simple recipe”, and he “did not need someone to tell him what to do.”</p>
<p>You laughed at his arrogance and said, “You can drop the persona, it’s just me.”</p>
<p>“Are you insinuating I am not being myself?” He placed a hand over his chest in feigned shock.</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m not. You’re a very complex person. I just think there’s a different side of you that you don’t like other people to see.”</p>
<p>“And what side is that?”</p>
<p>“Vulnerable. Not always in control. Not always in charge.”</p>
<p>Tom slid the bowl you were standing over towards himself, taking over the stirring. “But I like to be in charge.”</p>
<p>“I can see that,” you teased, eyebrows raised. Observing his slow stirring, you pointed out, “You’ve got to whisk it, Tom.”</p>
<p>“What does it look like I’m doing? I am whisking!”</p>
<p>“Not very well.”</p>
<p>“Well what do you want me to do?”</p>
<p>“Actually whisk it for fuck’s sake!”</p>
<p>“How do I do that?”</p>
<p>“Keep doing that, but do it faster.”</p>
<p>A smirk appeared on his face. “That’s what she said.”</p>
<p>At that moment, Dom sauntered into the kitchen, watching his son and the guest interact quite fondly. You rarely ever saw Dom, and you were hoping to keep it that way. He was quite intimidating with the amount of power he wielded in the Parish and over his crew. One word from him, and your life could be over as you knew it.</p>
<p>He eyed you two curiously, not speaking a word as he opened the fridge to retrieve a beer and silently returning to wherever he had come from previously. When Dom exited the room, you and Tom broke into a fit of giggles at his puzzled expression.</p>
<p>You both leaned over the counter to look back at the recipe, and Tom’s cheek brushed against yours as you examined the cookbook. You stood frozen in place, not even scanning the words on the page as you were distracted by the incidental touch of your co-chef.</p>
<p>The moment was interrupted by Harrison clearing his throat, grabbing your attention from the other side of the kitchen island, and you instinctively slinked away from Tom.</p>
<p>“Y/N, can we talk?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.</p>
<p>Tom shifted next to you, his eyes darting between you and Harrison.</p>
<p>“Yeah sure.” You leaned your elbows on the counter waiting for him to continue.</p>
<p>Eyeing Tom, Harrison cleared his throat again before saying, “I’m sorry about last night. It wasn’t my intention to be gone that long. And I should’ve been there when Harry approached you.” His eyes flickered back to Tom for a split second before meeting yours again. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”</p>
<p>Tom’s chin tilted higher at Harrison’s apology. Almost like a nod of approval, and almost like he commanded it to happen. His jaw seemed to unclench as he looked back down at the recipe.</p>
<p>You eyed Harrison apprehensively, but accepted the apology nonetheless. What was done was done, there’s no sense in dwelling on what-ifs and what-could-have-beens.</p>
<p>It was about two months into your stay at the Holland-Osterfield Parish when Thursday rolled around. Harrison appeared at your bedroom door right as you were about to climb into bed. He was nervous, his hands fidgeting with his cufflinks, twisting the golden bars in circles. After clumsy “you alright?” and “I’m good, yeah. You?” were exchanged, Harrison asked you out on a date. More specifically, to dinner at a restaurant the mob owned out in town.</p>
<p>“Let me make it up to you … you know, from the lounge incident.”</p>
<p>You were torn.  </p>
<p>Your heart was saying one thing, and your head another. You still couldn’t shake the thought that Tom had forced Harrison to apologize to you. Nor could you forget what you saw in Tom’s office just last week. The reality was, you were torn between a man who always got what he wanted and a man that needed to be told what he wanted.</p>
<p>As you looked back up at Harrison, he was combing his hand through those sandy curls, and his eyes were pleading for an answer. He looked so vulnerable, so fragile, as if one simple word of rejection would bring him to his knees. You weren’t sure if the date was a peace offering or if he truly had romantic interest. But if this was what he needed to do to reconcile his relationship with you, then who were you to deny him of that?</p>
<p>You gave a small smile, watching as his own lips tugged into a face splitting grin, causing yours to grow wide too.</p>
<p>“So … is that a yes?”</p>
<p>“It’s a yes, Harrison.”</p>
<p>With a tug on your arm, you were pulled from your place on your bed into a tight hug, Harrison’s face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.</p>
<p>“You won’t regret it,” he whispered, the pounding of his heart in his chest flush against your own confirming every word.</p>
<p>The next day, you procrastinated delivering the payroll to Tom, afraid if you saw him in person, you would change your mind about Harrison instantaneously.</p>
<p>It was nearing the time you should have been ready for the date, and the stack of papers needing to be signed imposed a sense of restlessness upon you. You sighed, picking up the stack and stalking down the hall to Tom’s office. Your dress flowed around your legs as you shuffled past a couple of men leaving his office. Knocking softly, you were silently praying he would not hear and your conscience would allow you to desert the papers at his doorstep for him to discover later. However, luck was not on your side as your knock was heard and Tom’s voice called out, “Come in.”</p>
<p>His eyes scanned your figure as soon as you came into view; his mouth parted slightly as he had not seen you dressed up before now. “You look lovely this evening. Going on a date?” Tom teased, picking up his pen and his eyes returning to the papers on his desk.</p>
<p>Your heels tapped against the wood floor of his office as you approached the chair in front of his desk. You placed the stack down on an empty spot on his workspace. “I am, actually.”</p>
<p>His head lifted from the papers to meet your eyes, brow arched at the revelation. He swirled the pen around in his hand, tapping it against his fingers as he analyzed you. There was doubt mixed with something else in his voice as he asked, “Are you?”</p>
<p>You placed your hands on your hips, trying to not be offended at his surprise. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>He merely hummed in response.</p>
<p>Irritation swelled as you expected more of a reaction or at least feigned interest in your evening from someone you considered to be a close friend.  “Are you not going to ask me who I’m going with?”</p>
<p>“I have a feeling I already know.”</p>
<p>You pursed your lips. “Did he tell you?”</p>
<p>“No.” Tom set down the pen, clasping his hands together on the desk in front of him, giving you his undivided attention. “I think you forget I read people for a living. I can see the way he looks at you. He hasn’t shut up about you since we picked you up that night from your old flat. Doesn’t take a genius to know Harrison has the hots for you.”</p>
<p>You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “The hots for me? Is that all it is?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that.” A sly smirk creeped across Tom’s face.</p>
<p>“It was implied. Was it not?”</p>
<p>He tilted his head to the side. “If you’re so concerned about it, princess, why did you agree to go on a date with him?”</p>
<p>His words spat like poison, and you were left in their wake not knowing what to say. You were already second-guessing your decision without the insecurities Tom just planted in your mind.</p>
<p>Opening and closing your mouth a few times to speak, nothing came out. The man behind the desk shrugged, picked up his pen, and started signing off on the checks. Without so much as a glance, he commanded, “I can leave these in your office when I’m done. No need to wait.”</p>
<p>‘No need to wait’ was polite code for ‘get out of my office before I lose my temper’ for Tom. You witnessed it happen first hand when a man refused to leave without an answer from the second in command. There was no direct harm inflicted, but the threatened violence was enough to convince the man he would not get what he asked for from Tom that day.</p>
<p>You huffed and swiveled on your heel, stomping out of the room. Before you reached the door Tom added sarcastically and with a sinister chuckle, “Have a nice time.”</p>
<p>Slamming the door behind you, the picture frame on the wall rattled. He knew just the buttons to push to drive you mad.</p>
<p>When you reached the top of the staircase, you released a large breath of air, trying to collect yourself before descending the steps.</p>
<p>Harrison was waiting at the bottom, making light conversation with the driver from the night you came to live at the Holland and Osterfield residence whom you came to know as Sam. When they both heard the clicking from your heels on the stone stairway, Sam clapped Harrison on the back before walking off, leaving you and Harrison alone.</p>
<p>“Wow,” Harrison breathed once you were in front of him. “You look stunning, love.”</p>
<p>His compliment brought a genuine smile to your face, though Tom’s words echoed in the back of your mind. “Thank you, Haz.”</p>
<p>“Shall we?” he asked, extending his arm for you to hold on to.</p>
<p>You giggled at the civility before taking his arm and walking out the front door.</p>
<p>The restaurant was quite nice considering you weren’t sure what to expect from a mob-owned establishment. There were sleek white table clothes draped over round tables. It was evening, so the tables were adorned with lit candles, creating a romantic ambiance.</p>
<p>Harrison pulled your chair out for you, making a show of his chivalry.</p>
<p>When he took his seat opposite of you, he said, “I know I’ve already said this, but you look amazing tonight.”</p>
<p>Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much, and now they started to heat up under his affectionate stare. “Thank you. You look quite nice yourself. Although I do get to see you in a suit everyday as it is.”</p>
<p>He chuckled, fiddling with his watch as the waiter approached your table.</p>
<p>You both ordered and enjoyed a delicious meal. The rest of the date went smoothly. You really got to know Harrison outside of who was around the mob. He was funny and passionate about so many things. A part of you was ashamed that you had doubts about saying yes to going on a date with him in the first place.</p>
<p>As you walked back to his car, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to him. “I’m not going to lie,” Harrison confessed, “I didn’t think you would say yes when I asked you out.”</p>
<p>Your eyes widened and your brows dipped with sadness. “Why did you think that, Haz?”</p>
<p>A shy smile flashed across his face as he focused on the sidewalk in front of him. He shrugged a little. “I don’t know. I guess it was just … you’re you. And I’m, well, me.”</p>
<p>Guilt tugged at your heart as you watched him rub the back of his neck anxiously waiting for your response. The problem was, you were going to say no, you had doubted the moment you said yes, and you were still doubting minutes before leaving for the date.</p>
<p>“I think you’re making me out to be some saint or something.” You drifted away from his embrace as you reached the vehicle. “Everyone deserves a fair chance,” you gulped, knowing that last statement was more for you than it was for him.</p>
<p>Harrison grinned regardless, and placed a kiss on your cheek before hopping into the car.</p>
<p>One date turned into two. Two into three. And before you knew it, Harrison was lounging on the patio asking you to be his girlfriend after a night swim in the pool.</p>
<p>“So … what do you say?” His eyes were bright and hopeful. “Will you be my girlfriend?”</p>
<p>You hesitated. Harrison was a sweetheart, but you discovered that he was a hot head. His anger boiled faster than his Maserati could travel, and his temper – inconsolable – was unmatched and erratic once activated. Thankfully, you had never been the subject of his fury, but you saw it flare enough times to know that you could never handle it first-hand, putting a wary feeling in your stomach every time you shared a disagreement.</p>
<p>Despite his temper, Harrison treated you well, he made you laugh; you had no real reason to say no though you couldn’t deny something was missing. As much as you soul-searched for what it could be, you came up empty each time. </p>
<p>The only thing that would have held you back from saying yes was if another man in particular, the one with dark enticing eyes and a cheeky smile, had demonstrated any amorous advances besides fleeting flirtatious comments that might very well be his natural instinct in talking to those of the opposite sex. But such advances had not occurred. So you found yourself saying yes, again, to Harrison despite the tightness in your chest screaming to say no.</p>
<p>You agreed, knowing this decision would seal you into the life of the mob at least somewhat permanently. It was no marriage arrangement, but you were now ceremoniously connected to one the biggest mobs in London. It marked you, much like a wedding band to signify one’s alliance. Though there was no love for the mob or its church it posed as for the crew. Just love for the son of the leader, the one with a holier-than-thou attitude and broken angel wings. The misfit sinner, his message of obedience a travesty for anyone that opposed it. You were a member of the congregation now, guised as a devoted follower looking for a saving grace. This was Tom’s parish, his house of worship. And you were now his pious pupil.</p>
<p>The following movie night, Harrison announced to his cousins that the pair were officially a couple. Olivia cheered through tight lips though she had expressed her doubts to you from the beginning as to whether Harrison was worthy enough to date her best friend. You had reassured her that you were capable of judging his character on your own accord, and she had yet to bring up the matter since then.</p>
<p>Tom, on the other hand, had not faltered on demonstrating his disdain. Snide comments, irritated scowls, innumerable eye rolls all passed judgement upon the pair from Tom since the first news of their successful date. He deemed his taunts playful, but you presumed them hurtful. There was a line between sarcasm and truth and Tom walked the line too closely to be certain of his chosen side.</p>
<p>At the news of becoming an official couple, Tom conjured an excuse to ditch the traditional movie viewing, marching out of the room in a hurry without so much as a congratulations.</p>
<p>The group settled on watching one film since Tom was not present, and they dispersed to their separate rooms afterwards.</p>
<p>As you climbed the stairs to return to your room, a girl with a bewildered expression darted down the staircase, heels in hand, and out the front door. Climbing the rest of the stairs cautiously, you looked around to find out what or who she was running from. Your eyes landed on Tom’s door just down the hall. He had just walked into the hallway, buttoning up his dress shirt, red lipstick stains all over the collar, his hair disheveled from previous activities.</p>
<p>He made eye contact with you, a grimace on his face, that same damned lock of hair falling across his forehead. Tom rolled his eyes at the sight of you, stalking back into his room and slamming the door behind him.</p>
<p>You were too irrationally irritated to decipher his curious behavior, so you ignored it, retiring to bed earlier than usual.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Ruin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter is from Tom's POV</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Get out!” he shouted, pointing at the door to his bedroom. “I said get the fuck out!”</p>
<p>Scrambling to gather her clothes, the girl managed to collect her things, made herself decent, and bolted out of the room. They always knew better than to protest his wishes. All of the girls Tom fooled around with followed the rules – his rules – set in place for his convenience and to prevent any possibility of information shared with rival mobs.</p>
<p>It was nothing she had done or said that set him off. Nor the girl before her or the one before that. Frustration and shame seeped through the sweat collecting on his brow. The girls as of late had not been able to satisfy him like they used to. No matter how much he wanted – needed – to get off, it simply was not happening for him.</p>
<p>At first Tom dismissed it as partaking in too much of a good thing, his desire for women usually insatiable. So the frequency of their visits declined drastically. Still nothing. Desperation set in and he tried everything. New girls, new positions. Only two things remained constant. He was not getting off, and he wished the girls to be someone else. More specifically, he yearned for them to be the girl dating his best friend, his cousin, his closest companion and confidant. Even when he imagined the girls to be Y/N in the midst of the act, he could not fool himself. They were not her. They would never be her.</p>
<p>Tom tugged at the roots of his hair harshly. Stomping out into the hallway to ensure the girl actually left, he started to button up his shirt in case someone of importance saw him. And there she was, the root of his problems, the reason why heavy bags hung under his eyes and sleep evaded him at night worrying whether or not he had ever possessed a shot with her, wondering about Harrison touching what should be his, her sleeping soundly in the arms of another.</p>
<p>Her lips parted and brow puzzled, infuriating him that much more. It was like she knew what she was doing to him, and it amused her to watch him squirm. It was irrational for Tom to think that way, but he did nonetheless.</p>
<p>Couldn’t she see the pain he was causing her? Why did she have to be so selfish? Agreeing to go on a date with Harrison, taking the easy way out. There was no denying the connection between him and Y/N. How could she just throw that away for his cousin, the knock-off version of himself? He was the real deal. The one that could treat her like a princess, love her like a woman deserves, satisfy her like a gentleman, provide for her every need. But she couldn’t see that. Or, perhaps, she didn’t want to.</p>
<p>When Tom rolled his eyes at her, Y/N’s arms folded across her chest. Knowing he pissed her off was enough to appease him for the night. She needed to feel what he felt, the ache in his heart, the twists in his stomach, the fury taking up residence in his mind. He recognized the fault in his rationalization. Tom sincerely did not desire her to experience the same emotions he held, but it was the only way he knew how to cope. If the mob had taught him anything it was if someone hurts you, they deserve to experience every bit of pain you went through and more.</p>
<p>After slamming the door shut, Tom leaned his back against it. He allowed his feet to slowly slide out from under him, sinking to the floor. Taking his head in his hands, he combed his fingers through his tousled hair.</p>
<p>The motion recalled to mind the memory of their first movie night in the living room downstairs. Y/N had roused his curiosity. Her face, petrified, the first night he saw her had tugged on his heart strings. He sympathized with her, unwillingly dragged into this world of hurt, anger, and pain. But the way she marveled at him was unlike the typical looks he received from girls – lustful, suggestive, unambiguous.</p>
<p>Y/N was different. He struggled to read her. It puzzled him deeply, he wanted to know more. So Tom decided to test her boundaries, to perceive where he stood in her mind, ally or adversary. As he laid his head on her lap that night, he sensed she lacked fear unlike the first interactions he held with numerous other girls, albeit in much different circumstances. His suspicions were further confirmed when her fingers grazed his locks subconsciously, blissfully unaware that with each stroke of her hand, the mobster below melted further under her touch.</p>
<p>Tom willingly recalled that exact memory when sleep evaded him at night. The phantom of her fingers running through his hair lulling him to sweet slumber, the shadow of her timid smiles turning into giddy grins as they became more comfortable in each other’s presence, breathing an air of peace over him.</p>
<p>But without fail, he got a taste of hell every time he fell asleep dreaming of Y/N and waking up alone.</p>
<p>About a month of painful self-loathing and pity, constantly aware of their romantic plans being the person Harrison reported his whereabouts to when leaving the estate, Tom received a text from his cousin stating the two were going to the store before his duty night. Tom instructed Harrison to ensure he would not be late, having little tolerance for any slight mistake he might make lately. After receiving reassurance that his cousin would arrive on time at the warehouse for his shift, Tom shoved his phone into his pocket and prepared for a meeting with a small crew of men.</p>
<p>Their jobs were simple. Move the drugs to the dealer’s drop off point, secure the dealer’s signature confirming delivery, return to the Parish. It baffled him that the men, though muscular and intimidating, were so simple-minded and foolish. It was baffling how he was even related to some of them. The plan was straightforward and direct, no room for questioning.</p>
<p>Tom had rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time in the span of the going on forty-five minute meeting that should only have taken twenty at best when his phone vibrated in his pocket. His temper boiled, whipping out the device to bite at whoever dared interrupt his meeting. But as he read the caller ID on the screen, his heart fluttered. Then panic set in. Something was wrong, he could sense it. She never called. And besides, she was supposed to be with Harrison.</p>
<p>Stepping out of the conference room, he picked up the call. “Hello?”</p>
<p>“Hey, babe, I’m almost there.”</p>
<p>Puzzled, he stuttered at the unusual nickname, heat rising to his face. “W-what? Is everything alright, Y/N?”</p>
<p>“Yeah! I’m almost there. Just rounding the corner now,” her voice strained in feigned confidence. There was fear in her tone – she was in danger. Not only that, but she could not even confide in him without being overheard. Fear shot through Tom’s spine like a frozen arrow and his jaw clenched tightly.</p>
<p>“Where are you? Tell me now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His fist gripped the phone so hard, he thought it might break under the pressure.</p>
<p>“Just passed Hansel Drive where we had our first kiss. So romantic, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>His feet carried him down the hall as fast as they would allow, shoving past uncles and cousins and crew members whose names he had yet to remember. “Are you alone?”</p>
<p>“Yep.” Her voice was shaky and he could almost hear her lip wobbling as she spoke.</p>
<p>He jumped into the first car he saw, shoving the keys into the ignition, and started it up. “Stay on the phone with me. Is someone following you?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>Gravel spit out the back of the tires as he raced down the driveway. The security guard opened the gate, Tom tapping his fingers against the wheel impatiently as the heavy metal swung wide. “Just one?”</p>
<p>“No, more like two or three guests will be staying with us.”</p>
<p>“Get into the nearest shop and stay there until I get there. I’m on my wa-”</p>
<p>The call dropped. His heart dropped with it. Tom gripped the wheel, turning recklessly without regard to any other vehicle on the road, down the London streets he had practically memorized as a child. Knuckles turned white with his intense hold, his eyes laser-focused on his ambiguous destination. He passed through intersections, unaware of the color of the stoplights as he zoomed through in desperation.</p>
<p>As he reached Hansel Drive, Tom slowed down, not knowing her exact location. He passed two dark alleys before he caught a glimpse of moving shadows past an abandoned bakery. Tom slammed on the breaks, his whole body lunging forward at the sudden jolt. Darting out the car, he sprinted into the dark. Footsteps ran away from him, further into the void. His hand rested on the gun strapped to his waist. He whipped it out, aimlessly pointing the barrel into the dark, but the echo of footsteps was gone.</p>
<p>“I will find you sons of a bitches,” he screamed. “You’ve started a goddamn war.”</p>
<p>When he saw her, he dropped to his knees.</p>
<p>“Y/N/N! Are you alright?”</p>
<p>She was curled into a ball on the ground, back against a brick wall. Tears stained her cheeks. Her eyes bloodshot red. Her lip quivered when he stooped in front of her. Reaching out for him, Tom grabbed her hands and pulled her into his arms, hugging her body tightly against him.</p>
<p>“Shh. It’s okay, love. I’m here now. No one is going to hurt you,” he cooed, rubbing circles over her back soothingly. He stared down the alley, but saw nothing but shadows of the surrounding buildings.</p>
<p>Y/N’s body shook with relief and she pulled at him in an attempt to close any distance between them although she was already pressed flush with his body. He held her until she was ready to move, whispering sweet nothings in her ear to calm her down.</p>
<p>Tom’s teeth ground together at the absence of Harrison. He should have been there. He should have protected her. Why would he leave her at night to defend herself knowing she was a marked woman?</p>
<p>Y/N must have sensed his muscles tense because she pulled away from her place on his chest to look at him in the eyes. She placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing the silent tears off his face that he was unaware of shedding.</p>
<p>Tom sucked in a deep, unsteady breath as he examined her person. Her throat had a red handprint wrapped around it. His nostrils flared at the thought it might leave a bruise on her, a reminder of him not reaching her fast enough. Aside from that, there were no other obvious physical signs of injury.</p>
<p>As he studied her, her face fell and she stared at her legs folded into his lap. Tom placed his finger under her chin, gently lifting it to meet her eyes. Thumbing away a stray tear, he said nothing as he inspected her, searching her face wordlessly for answers. His voice was barely above a whisper, rage barely restrained as he spoke.</p>
<p>“Who did this?”</p>
<p>She shook her head, tears threatening to spill again if she opened her mouth to speak. Placing her hand on top of his now resting on the side of her face, Y/N’s eyes fell to Tom’s lips before returning to his dark eyes glossed over with sorrow and guilt. She leaned in slightly, her gaze cast on his mouth once more.</p>
<p>Heart pounding in his chest, this is what he had dreamed of, fantasized about, every night before drifting to sleep. But it was wrong. She did not want him. It was a convenience, caught up in the moment, a moment she would regret as soon as her lips brushed against his.</p>
<p>Tom leaned in to her, resting his forehead against hers. His breath unsteady, it took every fiber in his being to stop himself from giving in to the greatest temptation he had ever faced. But he could not allow himself to be something she lamented the next morning. It would hurt far too much, more than any stray bullet or knife wound that had marked his skin before. Y/N held too much significance to Tom to allow her to cross this line. She was too pure, too virtuous, too reverent.  And she was Harrison’s.</p>
<p>His voice cracked as he asked the question pounding in his mind since the moment her name popped up on his phone screen, “Where is Harrison?”</p>
<p>Y/N lifted her hand to her eyes, swiping at new drops of distress, sniffles shaking her body. “He-he left t-to go on duty. S-said he would call a c-car for me, but it never came.”</p>
<p>A chilly breeze rushed past the pair and down the alley and her body shook when the frigid air graced her skin.</p>
<p>Tom stood, guiding Y/N to her feet as well. Removing his suit jacket, Tom wrapped it around her body to calm her shaky limbs. He walked her to the car, setting her gently in the passenger seat, and fastening her seatbelt for her. After he shut the car door, curses flew out of his mouth as he walked around the vehicle to the driver’s side.</p>
<p>Those motherfuckers who dared lay their hands on her were going to pay. How could Harrison be so fucking careless, so obtuse, to the danger he placed her in by leaving her alone? And where the bloody hell was the car he called for her?</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath before entering the vehicle, Tom attempted to settle his nerves. They felt like they were on fire, ignited with rage at the thought of his girl abandoned by the same people who vowed to protect her the moment she came to reside at the Holland-Osterfield Parish. But he needed to remain collected for Y/N. She was in no condition to witness the animosity building up inside his chest, waiting for any opportunity to lash out at the individuals responsible for tonight’s events.</p>
<p>He climbed in and locked the doors behind him. Teeth gritted, Tom settled into his seat. “I need you to tell me what happened, Y/N,” he whispered softly.</p>
<p>Turning to look at her, her eyes welled with tears, but they did not fall. “They followed me.” She paused, taking a breath, her stern tone settling into place as she collected her thoughts. “Down the street from the store. Once I realized no one was coming to pick me up, I started walking.”</p>
<p>Tom’s gaze did not waver from her face, gnawing on his bottom lip as he took in every word as she recounted her story.</p>
<p>“I tried to call Harrison. He must have his phone turned off because it didn’t even ring.” She looked down at her lap as she continued. “I tried once more but the same thing, it went straight to voicemail. So I called you.”</p>
<p>Y/N met Tom’s stare. “And I stayed on the phone with you until they dragged me into the alley. One of the men had his hand around my throat.” She held her own hand to it to demonstrate how he touched her, eyes falling to her lap once more. “They kept taunting me. Telling me I was a bad girl for associating with the Hollands and Osterfields. They said they couldn’t believe their luck when they saw me walking by all alone. Told me they were going to teach me a lesson.”</p>
<p>She took in a deep breath. “But then you showed up.” Her lip quivered and her eyes shined with gratefulness. “Thank you. Thank you for answering the phone, Tom. There’s no telling what could have happened had you not shown up when you did.”</p>
<p>His heart shattered at her broken gratitude. She should not be thanking him. He would do anything for her. “Y/N, you should’ve called me to come get you. I would’ve dropped everything so you did not have to walk all by yourself at night.” He reached across the center console, resting his hand on her thigh. “But you’re safe now. I promise no one will ever hurt you again.”</p>
<p>Y/N placed her hand on top of his and smiled sadly at him. She whispered, “You know you can’t promise that.”</p>
<p>Interlocking their fingers together, Tom swore, “Well then I promise I will do everything in my power to ensure no one hurts you again.” He squeezed her hand to reassure her that he meant it wholeheartedly. It was his vow to her, and he would die upholding it if it came down to it.</p>
<p>His words elicited a tiny grin from her lips. Butterflies erupted in his stomach at the sight, though he did not like to think of them as butterflies, dainty and fluctuating; Tom thought of them as ropes, strong and secure, tying up his heart, binding him to her. Y/N captivated him, and he accorded her will voluntarily, freely, and readily.</p>
<p>“There’s my Y/N/N,” he mumbled to himself breathlessly.</p>
<p>Tom shifted the car into gear, and pulled away from the alleyway. With dread, he awaited the moment her fingers would unlace from his, abandoning his touch. He needed her comfort as much as she needed his. The drive was silent as his anger festered and her fear subsided. Buildings turned to residences and residences to the gates of the Holland-Osterfield Parish. It was only when the vehicle idled in the carpark that she pulled her hand away from him.</p>
<p>They walked into the house side by side, Tom’s hand resting on her lower back gingerly. He followed her up the spiral staircase and down the hall to her room. Y/N immediately jumped onto her bed, pulling the covers up over her legs, causing Tom to chuckle at her.</p>
<p>“Do you not want to change out of your dress first?”</p>
<p>“I should.” Y/N snuggled deeper into Tom’s suit jacket. “But I want to sleep in this.”</p>
<p>Her eyes shined brightly under the soft light of the lamp, still glossy from the tears shed previously. They entranced Tom, the way they seemed to stand out even more against the red sadness collected in the corners of her eyes. Bright and beautiful, just like her.</p>
<p>“You want to sleep in the jacket?” he laughed.</p>
<p>She blushed, but nodded her head fervently.</p>
<p>“Why is that?”</p>
<p>“Because it smells like you.”</p>
<p>Tom’s heart raced. “Here.” He paused, beginning to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. “How about you wear this, then. I’m sure it will be much more comfortable than the jacket.”</p>
<p>He slid the fabric off his shoulders, handing it to Y/N. Her eyes widened as they trailed from fading angry bruises around his collarbones to his broad chest. She stopped and winced when she reached the long, thin scar on his chest next to his tattoo of the mob crest, a constant reminder of a deal gone wrong. Still, her eyes traveled lower to his muscular stomach he had worked hard on up-keeping in the gym. They stopped once they reached the waistband of his boxers peeking out above his sleek dress pants and moved back to his face.</p>
<p>Her actions left Tom flustered, but he composed himself, trying to seem not bothered under her stare. “Take a picture, it will last longer, darling.”</p>
<p>“Very funny, Holland.”</p>
<p>Y/N stood up, her hips swaying as she sauntered into the bathroom to change. He watched her wander into the room, slowly closing the door behind herself, but not without holding his gaze until the door completely separated them.</p>
<p>Even then, the door remained left open just a tad. The light illuminating the bathroom cast a string of light into the bedroom. His breathing hitched in his throat at the sound of rustling removing clothes on the other side of the door. He strained slightly to see beyond the crack, only able to catch flashes of fabric and skin from where he was standing. He would feel guilty had he not been so caught up in the moment, Harrison the farthest thing from his mind right now.</p>
<p>Tom would be lying to himself if he said the thought of Y/N sleeping in his clothes did not turn him on. He pictured the white fabric reaching down to her upper thigh, caressing her shoulders, snuggling against her bare stomach, the top few buttons left open to expose some of her chest. His drifting fantasy was interrupted when a hasty knock sounded on the open door.</p>
<p>One of his men was standing in the hall. “Sorry to interrupt, boss.”</p>
<p>The door to the bathroom opened behind him and his jaw shifted as her figure came into view wearing nothing but his dress shirt and a pair of underwear. She looked even more stunning than he had imagined. But there was an uninvited person that could see the sight that should be reserved for his eyes only. So, reluctantly and rather annoyed, Tom stepped into the hall and closed the door of her bedroom behind him.</p>
<p>The man leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Harrison never showed up for his post. The guys found him in the lounge strung out and really out of it.”</p>
<p>His fists clenched and his frustration from earlier returned to the forefront of his mind. “I’ll be down to handle it,” he confirmed through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>Running his fingers through his hair, Tom deliberated if he should tell Y/N what was going on. She deserved to know, but if Tom’s own anger was any indication how she would feel, he did not want to be the one to break the news to her.</p>
<p>Harrison had been caught before dipping into the stash. It was fine until he got out of hand. He was threatened by Dom to be removed from the mob if he did not sober up and act right. Tom wondered if Y/N even knew about his past drug use.</p>
<p>He opened the door to her room to find her half asleep already. When he sat down on the bed next to her, the mattress shifted underneath his weight, causing her to stir.</p>
<p>“Is everything okay?” she asked groggily.</p>
<p>Tom readjusted the covers so she was completely under them. “No, but it will  be.” He exhaled a large breath of air. “Someone found Harrison in the lounge. He ditched his duty for a line of coke.”</p>
<p>Twiddling his fingers, he awaited her response, but one never came. Her eyes strained on the lamp resting on her nightstand as she held her bottom lip between her teeth. Her reaction was all the indication Tom needed to be reassured Y/N was unaware of Harrison using again.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to call Olivia to come stay with you?”</p>
<p>“No, no. It’s Friday. She’s with her mom. I’ll be okay.” Unconvinced, Tom raised an eyebrow at her, and she wrapped the blanket around her tighter. “I promise.”</p>
<p>Tom nodded his head. “Call or text if you need anything. Anything, Y/N.”</p>
<p>“I will. Thank you.”</p>
<p>Closing the door gently behind him, Tom stomped off to his room. The rage inside his chest built up once more. He snatched a new dress shirt and jacket off their hangers, throwing them on before racing down the stairs.</p>
<p>This was strike two for Harrison, and Tom knew he was too close to the situation to execute a rational decision. His father should be the one to bring Harrison to justice for his immoral and reckless behavior, but he couldn’t stop his feet from storming into the lounge to give Harrison a piece of his mind.</p>
<p>When he entered the lounge, Tom saw nothing but red when Sam pointed out where their cousin was from behind the bar. Harrison sat giggling on one of the leather sofas next to Harry and a hooker. White powder laced his right nostril and a stupid, toothy grin on his face as his leg bounced insecantly. He rubbed at his nose harshly when Tom walked over. The closer Tom got, he noticed Harrison’s blown pupils and bloodshot eyes.</p>
<p>“Mate! Care to join us?” he asked Tom, blissfully unaware of the fury seeping through his cousin’s pores.</p>
<p>“No, mate,” Tom said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”</p>
<p>“Nah, we’re just hanging out tonight. Loosen up a bit.”</p>
<p>“Did you even call the car?” Tom tapped his foot impatiently against the checkered tile. He knew the answer already, but he needed to justify the rage inside his chest.</p>
<p>Harrison laughed. “Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>“For Y/N. Did you even call the car for Y/N?”</p>
<p>“Shit, I don’t know,” Harrison shrugged, causing Harry to chuckle at his cluelessness. His brother shot him a glare to shut him up before becoming another victim of his outrage. Harry seemed to know the look well enough, and his attention diverted to the indecent girl now kissing up the side of his neck.</p>
<p>“Well I know.” Tom balled his fist. “And you fucking didn’t. You left her out on the goddamn street by herself.”</p>
<p>“What’s the big deal, mate? She’s fine, right?”</p>
<p>“If you weren’t so bloody high right now, I would kick your arse,” Tom yelled, cracking his knuckles in front of him. “Clean yourself up. Dom will be expecting you in his office.”</p>
<p>Harrison looked around the room in a distracted daze before finally refocusing on Tom. “Oh … why?”</p>
<p>“Because you’re high, you ditched your post, and you left Y/N out on the street for her to be attacked,” Tom accused, voice growing colder with every allegation.</p>
<p>Not even awaiting a defense, he was sure Harrison did not have one anyways, Tom phoned his father, not bothering to walk up the second flight of steps to speak face to face. Recounting the story, Tom informed Dom of Harrison’s insubordination and negligence to which his father assured him the situation would be dealt with, irritation in his voice at being called to deal with an issue within his own crew, before hanging up the phone.</p>
<p>When Tom reached the top of the stairs, his mind ventured down the hallway to the likely, hopefully, sleeping girl behind the second door on the left. The image developed into her sweet face, relaxed and blissfully in dream state. Her cheeks flushed and squished against the satin pillowcase. Her hair splayed across the pillow, pieces falling across her shoulders covered in bright white fabric. Looking angelic and pure, much like her character declares, in her less than innocent attire.</p>
<p>His feet soon became swept away in his daydream, following his wandering thoughts, and carrying him down the hall. He paused at the sight of dark shadows stretching out from under her door. Contemplating whether or not to open the door just a tad to check on her, Tom bade himself to control his longing to see her, a predicament he caught himself in numerous times in regards to Y/N. With great persuasion from his own conscience, he pivoted and strolled down the other side of the hall. His heels clicked against the stone floors as he slowly made his way to his bedroom.</p>
<p>Shrugging out of his jacket, Tom returned the Armani piece to its original hanger. He slid his shiny black shoes off his feet, peeling socks off afterwards. His head hung, exhaustion overwhelming his person all at once. Tom rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the growing tension in his muscles from the recent stress, but found little relief.</p>
<p>Sighing deeply, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped the rest of his clothes from his body, tossing them in a pile on the floor to be dealt with tomorrow. When the water was scalding enough to match the fire ignited in his nerves, Tom stepped under the cascading droplets. His skin turned a light shade of red under the water as it trickled down his person and into the drain below. He stood there for quite some time, pondering, scheming, blaming, until he caught his own hot droplets falling down his face, meeting the shower water in a waltz, melting together, becoming indistinguishable from one another.</p>
<p>The last time Tom cried was at least a year ago when he was punched in the face and broke his nose, and the sudden onset of emotional chaos unfolding in the past few hours brought him to his knees, both metaphorically and physically.</p>
<p>As he squatted in front of Y/N earlier in the alley, his heart was crushed. Guilt ate him alive. Anger boiled underneath his skin. The tears that escaped his eyes then had been sympathetic to Y/N and her state.</p>
<p>The tears now streaming down his face were filled with self-deprecation. He failed to reach her fast enough. He should have never sent Harrison that text. He should be the one responsible for her safety and well-being, not his careless, negligent cousin. It was Tom’s fault, in Tom’s eyes alone, that the events of the night occurred in the first place. But the thought consumed him. His stomach churned and his mind pricked with relentless loathing of himself.</p>
<p>The heat of the bathroom clouded with wispy strings of steam drifting into the air. With nowhere to wander, the room became stuffy and suffocating. His body aflame, skin burning under the intense temperature of the stream of water, Tom grounded himself from his destructive pensive state. And with heavy eyes, tired from tears, the ache in his heart, and the fury in his brow, he switched off the water.</p>
<p>He dried himself with a towel and pulled on a clean pair of boxers, retiring to the cold, lonely silk sheets of his king sized bed. The bed had never appeared so vast or empty than as he pulled the duvet to his chin, flicking off the lamp on his night stand. Tom laid still in the dark before his eyelids begged him to slumber, and he entered into euphoric dreamworld.</p>
<p>A sharp knock prompted Tom’s eyes to spring open. His hand immediately reached for the glock strapped to the side of his nightstand. It was pitch black in the room and his sudden rising left his head whirling and searching for the furnishings of his room to come into view. Another softer knock tapped on the other side of his door. His eyes still adjusted when a quiet sigh and padding bare feet against the cold stone trekked back down the hall. The noise aroused Tom and sent him stumbling across the room to reach the door. He hastily unlocked it and flung it wide open. A small gasp echoed down the otherwise empty corridor, the swish of her shirt could be heard in the deep silence as she lifted her hands to cover her mouth at the unexpected reaction.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” She uncovered her mouth as she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.</p>
<p>“Yes. Well, no. But yes.” Y/N bit her lip and pulled at the hem of her shirt.</p>
<p>Tom’s mouth instinctively tugged into a smirk. She was still in his dress shirt, and only his dress shirt. The buttons loosely binding the thin fabric to her upper half left little to his already wandering, visionary imagination.</p>
<p>“I can’t sleep,” Y/N confessed. “But I don’t know why I thought waking you up would do anything. I don’t know. It was dumb of me. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>She turned to walk back to her room, but Tom reached out and took hold of her hand, stopping her in her tracks. “You don’t have to go.”</p>
<p>There was so much more that he wanted to say. “I’m sorry.” “You deserve better than this.” “Your boyfriend is unworthy of your affection.” “Please don’t go.” But he refrained himself. Now was not the time or place.</p>
<p>Studying him, she brought her finger to her mouth, biting at the nail in contemplation.</p>
<p>Tom continued. “You can sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch on the other side of the room.”</p>
<p>He searched her eyes. Even in the dark he could tell there was an ounce of hesitation. Hesitation caused by Harrison whom she was still bound to despite his previous discrepancies. Perhaps that would change. But for now, they were still a couple. And loyalty shimmered in her eyes as he could see the wrestling decision taking place in her mind.</p>
<p>Tom tugged at her hand gently to put her at ease. “You don’t have to. It’s just an offer.” He smiled sadly at the desperation behind his words, how easily they crushed his spirit leaving his mouth.</p>
<p>“Okay,” she mumbled quietly, head nodding in secondary affirmation.</p>
<p>“Okay,” he repeated, his heart racing at her trust.</p>
<p>As Tom locked the door behind them, he watched as she climbed into his bed. Naturally, she chose the usually empty side of the bed. Tom smiled to himself at the thought that they would so effortlessly seam together if a relationship ever sprouted. But he was getting ahead of himself. This was just for a night, and a night only, he persuaded himself.</p>
<p>He stumbled over to the couch in the dark, tripping over the rug in the process, eliciting a giggle from Y/N. Plopping down, Tom readjusted the throw pillow under his head and spread the blanket previously draped over the back of the couch over his cold body. Tom reached out to check under the coffee table next to him to ensure there was a weapon readily at his disposal in case something happened. When his hand grazed a sharp metal blade under the table, his mind was put at ease, and he settled into the couch.</p>
<p>A melodic “Goodnight, Tom” sounded in the dark.</p>
<p>“Goodnight, princess,” he replied much too gleefully.</p>
<p>A comforting silence fell over the room, but sleep did not return to him easily. His mind would not relinquish the idea of the beautiful girl laying in his bed. He listened intently for her breaths to become heavier and steady with slumber. But they did not, and he knew they were both lying awake in the early hours of the morning under the same roof and same heavy weight of circumstance.</p>
<p>“Tom?” her quiet whisper interrupted his solitude.</p>
<p>“Yes, angel?”</p>
<p>“I still can’t sleep.”</p>
<p>“Is there something on your mind?”</p>
<p>Y/N scoffed.</p>
<p>Tom silently scolded himself for being insensitive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I was trying to ask if you wanted to talk about whatever is on your mind.”</p>
<p>Y/N sighed. “I don’t think I can do that right now. I’m just not ready.”</p>
<p>There was a pause before Tom responded, compassion in his tone, “I understand that completely. You went through a lot today. A lot that should have never happened in the first place.” He gripped the blanket tightly trying to restrain his anger that so readily jumped to the surface of his mind. “And I’m sure you were scared of what could have happened, but you’re safe now. I’m right here.”</p>
<p>“But you’re not right here.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Tom lifted his head from his pillow, turning to look at the dark outline of her figure on the bed.</p>
<p>“I mean you’re not right here in the bed with me.”</p>
<p>He swallowed harshly. His tone faltered as he attempted to sound as casual as possible, but an abundance of hopefulness overpowered him. “Do you want me to be?”</p>
<p>She paused for a few moments before answering. “If you want to.”</p>
<p>“Do you want me to, Y/N/N?”</p>
<p>Of course he wanted to, he wanted her in his bed every night since the moment she arrived at the mansion. At first, primarily in a sexual manner, but now, it was in every loving way he desired her presence next to him under the soft warmth of the duvet and the cool touch of the silk sheets, wrapping their limbs, tangling their bodies together, binding them as one.</p>
<p>He could hear her head ruffling against the pillow in a nod. “I do.”</p>
<p>Tom removed the blanket from his body and stood up. He shuffled over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. If he was going to share a bed with the girl he fantasized about on a regular basis, it was for both their good he put on an extra layer of clothing in case of accidental brushing against one another while sleeping. Besides, he wished to respect her in any and all ways possible considering their given circumstance.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” she inquired as he closed the drawer.</p>
<p>“Putting on some sweatpants.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>He chuckled as his gentlemanly actions were not blatantly evident to her. “Because I was just in my boxers before. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”</p>
<p>A timid “oh” left her lips which eradicated his fear that she would misinterpret his action as anything other than an act of respect. He would have gladly slept next to her in only his boxers. In fact, he would prefer even less clothing between the two of them. But Tom did not want her to think his goal was anything other than putting her at ease.</p>
<p>He pulled back the covers and slid into the spot next to her. When Tom turned over on his side, he came to face to face with one of his many fantasies. Her. In his bed. Smile glued to her face.</p>
<p>“Do you want to cuddle?” he offered, a little more brave now.</p>
<p>She giggled at his proposal and playfully pushed at his shoulder. “Who would’ve thought? Thomas Holland is a softy,” Y/N teased, nestling her face into the soft silk pillowcase.</p>
<p>He bit back a face-splitting smile. “Oh, I am quite the romantic. You honestly have no idea. I love a good cuddle.”</p>
<p>“Is that why you have all those girls come over? For a cuddle?”</p>
<p>His heart sunk and his brows furrowed. To be honest, he had not even thought about another girl in weeks. He stopped inviting them over about a month ago, but she clearly had not noticed their lack of presence in the mansion. Tom’s eyes scanned her face which studied him back curiously.</p>
<p>His silence prompted her to speak again. “I shouldn’t tease you about that. It’s none of my business.” She sucked in her bottom lip awaiting a response.</p>
<p>“They don’t come around anymore,” he confessed. “They didn’t mean anything anyways. Just a means to an end.”</p>
<p>She hummed in response, confirming she understood his position. After a moment of silence, Y/N shifted so her back was facing Tom. He thought he might have said the wrong thing, an apology practically dangling on the edge of his lips when her body scooted into his. The curve of her backside pushed flush into his front, her legs contorted to rest against his. Her back close, but not quite touching his chest. Tom breathed a breath of relief at her affection.</p>
<p>He gladly returned the gesture by draping his arm across her waist, tugging her even closer to his person. A high-pitched squeal left Y/N’s mouth at his sudden action, followed closely behind by giggles. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, sighing contentedly at his new found position. Tom held her impossibly close, breathing her in, savouring this moment.</p>
<p>His heart swelled at being intimate with the woman he had grown so fond of. Feeling a rush of courage, he placed a chaste kiss to the back of her neck. He waited for a reprimand, lips lingering barely above the soft flesh of her neck, but instead, he was met with her arm pulling his own close into her bosom.</p>
<p>Safe and warm in the gentle embrace of her touch is where he found himself drifting to sleep, hoping, praying, she would still be there when he opened his eyes the next morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Where Were You in the Morning?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The covers rustled as your eyes blinked open slowly.</p>
<p>Wet, hot kisses were placed on your exposed stomach, drawing sleepy but aroused mewls from your throat. Your eyes fluttered shut again, relishing in the feeling of the pair of lips on your exposed skin leaving bruising kisses followed closely behind with soothing licks to the new marks of affection.</p>
<p>Mindlessly threading your fingers through the head of curls tickling your stomach, you tugged gently on the roots, eliciting a deep groan from the man. He was positioned between your legs, hands firmly gripping your waist as he left a trail of kisses down to your panties.</p>
<p>When he gathered the elastic band into his mouth and released it, letting it snap against your skin, you finally looked down at him through hooded eyes.The view in front of you was far too alluring and provocative to be upset about him waking you up so early.</p>
<p>Tom stared back up at you, a cheeky smirk glued to his face as he left teasing feather-light kisses to the waistband of your underwear all whilst maintaining direct eye contact with you. You moaned at the sight, letting your back arch off the silk sheets, pushing your hips up towards his face.</p>
<p>He chuckled darkly, watching you squirm underneath his taunting touch.</p>
<p>“Do you want something, princess?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy from having just woken up.</p>
<p>You nodded your head, hoping he would continue whatever it was he was planning on doing to you. His thumbs traced circles on your hip, waiting for your words to answer him. As he waited, he nibbled on the skin just below your belly button, his teeth softly grazing your flesh, arousing you even more. You could feel your arousal collecting in your panties as you struggled to form a coherent thought.</p>
<p>When you reluctantly realized he was waiting for verbal permission to continue, you managed to squeak out a “yes, Tommy.”</p>
<p>His smirk widened at your answer and he brought one of your legs up, spreading your legs wide open for him. He placed sloppy kisses on the inside of your thigh, trailing down to where you wanted him to be the most but at an agonizing pace.</p>
<p>“And what is it you want, darling?”</p>
<p>You opened your mouth readily to speak but groaned when his lips ghosted over your clothed clit, just barely letting you get a taste of pleasure. His grip on your hips tightened briefly, encouraging you to go on.</p>
<p>You swallowed, and breathlessly muttered, “I want you to-”</p>
<p>Another whine escaped your mouth when Tom licked your sensitive bud over your panties.</p>
<p>He was driving you crazy with each teasing touch, drawing ardent moans from you so effortlessly. And his eyes trained on your face were doing nothing but making matters worse. They seemed to shimmer with each passing noise elicited from you, only spurring on his endeavors more.</p>
<p>Tom tsked. “You want me to what?” he asked innocently as if he had not just interrupted your previous attempt to express your desire.</p>
<p>As he kissed back up your inner thigh, one of his hands moved to your panties, pulling the thin fabric to the side to expose your wet center. Tom closed his eyes, continuing to press his mouth against your leg, not even peeking at your exposed heat yet. When the cocky bastard looked you dead in the eye and said, “So wet for me, love,” before finally confirming his own statement by eyeing your dripping cunt, you knew you were done for. The satisfied smirk on his face irritated you and turned you on that much more. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and he was not hiding the fact that he was reveling in your tortured bliss.</p>
<p>“Tommy, please.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright.” He placed one final kiss on your thigh. “I’ll give you what you want.”</p>
<p>You breathed a sigh of relief, your hips bucking up impatiently as you struggled to stop squirming in anticipation. Tom pushed your hips down firmly into the mattress before flattening his tongue and lapping up your arousal.</p>
<p>Head thrown back against the pillow, you chanted his name like a prayer. When he moved up to suck on your aching clit, you swore you saw stars as he circled the bud with his wet muscle before pulling it between his lips and then soothing particularly harsh sucks with gentle kitten licks.</p>
<p>Your hands moved from gripping the sheets to his soft curls once more, urging him to continue with tugs to his locks. Tom didn’t seem to mind, guttural groans leaving his mouth when you pulled a little less gentler.</p>
<p>A knock sounded on the door and you couldn’t help the pathetic whine that left your mouth when Tom removed his face from your pussy. You were so close to the edge, the build up in your core slowly unwinding as he called out and asked who was at the door.</p>
<p>Instead of answering, the doorknob twisted and in walked Harrison.</p>
<p>At the sight in front of him, the blond froze in place. He eyed you, half naked, wearing Tom’s shirt, exposed to Tom who had your arousal spread across his mouth and chin and was laid out between your legs quite comfortably. Harrison’s face contorted into a puzzled expression, his mouth hanging partly opened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You sat straight up in the bed, your head spinning wildly at the sudden movement. When you opened your eyes, Tom was still dead asleep next to you, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. Your own breath was ragged as you stirred more and more awake. You shook your head at yourself for having such a fucked up dream. A fucked up but delicious dream.</p>
<p>You slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed out of the room as quietly as you could manage, not wanting to wake Tom. His signature scent had wafted all around you as you slid out from beside him. Though enticing, it was not enough to make you stay even after your vivid dream.</p>
<p>You were not ashamed of staying the night with him, but you could not help the shame that followed as you were about to hurry down the hall in nothing but a shirt and underwear. There were always men roaming the halls and the last thing you wanted was another interaction with a member of the mob like the one you had with Harry. How he was related to Tom, you had no idea. Tom was always respectful, a gentleman; Harry, well, his previous actions spoke louder than words to his character. Avoiding him in the mansion had become second-nature to you.</p>
<p>The door creaked as you twisted the knob, letting it softly close behind you. You breathed a sigh of relief that you had not woken Tom. Not wanting to converse about what last night meant, not wanting to delve into where you stood with Harrison now, not wanting to replay the events on the streets of London seeing the sympathy swell in Tom’s eyes, still, you lingered outside of his door. You wanted nothing more than to stay in his embrace – safe, serene and affectionate.</p>
<p>The voice that called out to you down the hall left you frozen in place.</p>
<p>“Y/N?” Shock, disbelief, judgement laced in their tone.</p>
<p>You turned to meet Olivia’s crossed arms, mouth hanging ajar, overnight bag dropped to the floor beside her. You quickly shuffled away from Tom’s door, hoping to prevent the sound of your voice from rousing him from his slumber.</p>
<p>“Hey,” you mumbled as you approached Liv, praying that you would not be questioned, but knowing the reality of how unjustifiable your actions might appear to your friend.</p>
<p>“Are you just going to pretend you did not just sneak out of Tom’s room in nothing but a button down shirt?” she interrogated, pointing down the hall to the direction you just came from and sounding quite offended by your lack of explanation.</p>
<p>You continued walking past Liv to your room. “No I’m not pretending that didn’t just happen. I don’t want anyone to see me dressed like this though. I need to change.”</p>
<p>You opened your door and made your way to the dresser. Sliding a drawer open, you pulled out a pair of leggings and slid them on over your bare legs as Olivia walked in after you.</p>
<p>“I hope you’re ready to explain what just happened because it definitely does not look so good on your part right now.”</p>
<p>You ignored her, searching in your closet for a shirt to change into.</p>
<p>Liv did not understand. She wasn’t there. Olivia did not live through what you did, and she had no right to judge you.</p>
<p>Pulling on a shirt in place of Tom’s button down, you turned to face her. Liv’s arms were crossed in front of her chest, her brows knit tightly together in both confusion and disappointment. She all too closely resembled a mother about to chastise her child for deliberate disobedience.</p>
<p>“Well?” she impatiently pushed.</p>
<p>“It’s not that easy, Liv.”</p>
<p>“What isn’t easy? It seems pretty straightforward to me. Either something happened and you’re going to tell me the truth or something happened and you’re about to stand here and lie about it or make up some excuse for why you did what you did.”</p>
<p>Your rising irritation was going to make it next to impossible for you to adequately explain the events of the previous night. You already did not want to talk about it and your best friend’s resistance to hearing your side of the story was only adding to your reluctance to recount the situation you found yourself in merely twelve hours ago.</p>
<p>“Something happened, okay,” you snapped. Your anger matched Olivia’s, mirroring her expression. “Not with Tom, but something happened last night.”</p>
<p>Olivia rolled her eyes, disbelief in the form of a scoff ringing in the air. “Oh and I don’t suppose that the bruise on your neck has anything to do with my promiscuous cousin?”</p>
<p>Your hand reached up to the discolored skin. It was sensitive to the touch and you winced at the contact when your fingers grazed the purpling spot.</p>
<p>A new wave of anger and sorrow churned in your mind. “Fine.” You stormed past Liv, making your way to the hallway. “Don’t believe me. But you don’t know what happened. You have no right to judge me for something that you only think happened.”</p>
<p>Without looking back at your bewildered friend, you fled down the nearest flight of stairs and out to the terrace. You took a seat on the cushioned bench, holding your arms across your chest in the chill of the morning air.</p>
<p>You just wanted to be alone. This house, this life, was beginning to have a toll on you, and you weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to handle it.</p>
<p>The hairs on your arms started to stand on edge from the cold when you heard footsteps trotting to the door. Olivia poked her head out, strolling over to sit next to you once she determined the two of you were alone.</p>
<p>Liv placed your hand in her own. “Come on, Y/N. Talk to me.”</p>
<p>“Are you actually going to listen? Or are you just going to make assumptions?” you snapped. You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, truly only wanting to share your experience and receive comfort from your closest companion. But you could not take the words back and all you could do was hope Olivia would understand.</p>
<p>“I promise to listen. I’m sorry. You have to understand how this looks from my perspective.”</p>
<p>Still tense from the argument, you lifted your hands in surrender. “Yeah, I get that. But let me speak about it first before jumping to the worst possible conclusion.”</p>
<p>Folding her arms over her front, Liv reassured you. “I’m all ears.”</p>
<p>“Last night Harrison and I went to the store,” you began. You recounted the entire story to your friend, sparing no details. Olivia soon realized her judgements were unwarranted and sought the hold of your hand once more as you finished the narrative of the night before. Her hold tightened and jaw clenched upon the revelation of the abandonment in the alley and the reason behind Harrison’s absence.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t sleep after Tom left my room. Flashing images of the men and the hand wrapped around my neck made me feel like I was suffocating everytime I started to drift to sleep.” You played with your fingers resting in your lap, working up the courage to finish your story, making sure to only say what was necessary. “So I went down the hall to the only person that I could trust at the time. And he offered to let me sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch.”</p>
<p>For the first time since you started recounting your story, Olivia interrupted with a quirk in her brow. “He let you sleep in his bed?”</p>
<p>“Yes?” You questioned. Had that really been the most surprising part of your narrative?</p>
<p>“Wow.” Olivia reflected on your statement. “He must really be fond of you.”</p>
<p>“Why do you say that?”</p>
<p>“Well there’s a reason the girls he sleeps with don’t stick around after. Tom does not like to share. Never has. Even as kids he was always stingy with his toys. And his bed is no exception to that. I’m pretty sure he has the sheets imported from some luxurious island in the Caribbean.”</p>
<p>You chuckled at the thought of baby Tommy acting childish, not wanting to share his toys. You could picture it so clearly – snatching a wooden block away from Olivia while she wept over its absence. No remorse, just doing as he pleased. Not much has changed as Tom always got what he wanted, even now.</p>
<p>“Sorry, it just shocked me.” She released a large breath of air before meeting your eyes. “I know Tom, and he is not usually platonic with his lady friends. I just didn’t want you to be another one of his conquests. And then, of course, you would have been cheating on Harrison. If you’re even still going to be together.” Liv trailed off at the end and bit her lip as she mulled over how much she should ask you.</p>
<p>“So what are you going to do about Harrison?” she asked quietly.</p>
<p>Swiping your hands over your face at the stress-inducing question, you responded, “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Part of me is angry he didn’t tell me he was using drugs, but the other part of me gets why he didn’t tell me. I know I would have ended things as soon as I found out. And he is a really sweet guy. I don’t want to just throw away our relationship because of a misunderstanding.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to tell you what to do. You know I had my reservations about your relationship from the beginning, and this only solidified those doubts. But I will say that Harrison does not deserve you. You don’t need to be more a part of this life than you already are. The mob is a dangerous place to have ties to.”</p>
<p>Still unconvinced, you searched your friend’s eyes for clarity. She could be saying these things just to prevent another occurrence like the one from last night.</p>
<p>As if Liv could read your mind, she continued. “And this is me talking about my cousin who is practically my brother. I wouldn’t be saying these things if I didn’t mean them.” She placed her hand on your shoulder. “Especially if he’s using again, you don’t need to give him a second chance.”</p>
<p>“I’m scared if I don’t I’ll regret it.”</p>
<p>“What will you regret more – not giving him a second chance or him breaking your heart again? This is not the first time he’s been caught using and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”</p>
<p>The door to the patio twisted, and Liv’s eyes lifted to meet whoever was joining the pair. Not bothering to look up for fear of confrontation with Harrison so soon, you kept your focus on the now bleeding cuticle you had picked at.</p>
<p>“From the looks of it, you’ve already got another one of my cousins wrapped around your little finger,” Olivia whispered.</p>
<p>She winked at you as a blush creeped up your face. “It wasn’t like that.”</p>
<p>Footsteps tapped against the wood deck revealing the subject of their conversation.</p>
<p>“Good morning, ladies,” he rasped cheerfully with two cups of coffee in hand.</p>
<p>“Got a taste of your own medicine waking up alone, Tommy?” Olivia quipped.</p>
<p>He placed the two mugs on the coffee table in front of them. “I’m going to pretend that was a thank you and carry on making breakfast for us.”</p>
<p>You locked eyes with Tom, and for a moment those brown orbs brought you back to the scandalous dream you had last night, prompting you to look away from his intense stare. Olivia looked between the two of you curiously before her silent interrogation left Tom scurrying back inside the house.</p>
<p>As soon as Tom disappeared behind the door, Liv brought you in for a hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you last night when all of that went down. I’m sorry it even happened in the first place. Never hesitate to call me if you ever need me. I would have dropped everything in a heartbeat to come get you. I don’t want anything bad to ever happen to you.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Liv. I know you would have. I just didn’t expect anything like that to happen.”</p>
<p>The scent of sizzling bacon and pancakes wafted in the air through the cracked kitchen window as you sipped on your perfectly made tea. Normally, the smell would elicit pleasurable feelings of hunger. Today, nausea took hold of your stomach, twisting and turning at the mere idea of eating food. There was too much anxiety building up with the idea of confronting Harrison.</p>
<p>After weighing your options, you resolved to speak with your boyfriend soon so you could move on and enjoy your breakfast and the rest of your day in peace. Though he had not been your primary choice at the beginning, your feelings for Harrison were true and deep nonetheless.</p>
<p>To say you loved him would be a stretch. You were not quite at that level with him yet. However, you cared deeply for the blond boy with piercing eyes and sweet disposition. If the pair ended up breaking things off, it would not be an easy feat. He had helped you through so much in the past couple of months with the life transition and encouraged you daily in your work with the mob. He had become an integral aspect of your life and to let that go would be painful.</p>
<p>The pair needed to talk, and there was no use in putting off the inevitable, so you stood up and gave Olivia a small smile. “I’m going to go see him.”</p>
<p>“Good luck, babe. I’m here for you if you need me to come up and kick his arse.”</p>
<p>Stalking through the kitchen swiftly to avoid Tom, you made a beeline to the stone steps you had climbed so many times over the past three months residing at the Holland-Osterfield Parish.</p>
<p>This time, it seemed different. There was a loathing and daunting feeling behind each stair that you climbed. The uneasy feeling in your stomach grew immensely as you turned down the hallway towards Harrison’s room. With a trembling hand, you tapped lightly on the wooden door.</p>
<p>A deep groan sounded from the other side followed by shuffling bare feet across the hardwood floors. The door knob twisted to reveal Harrison with disheveled hair, heavy bags under his eyes like he had hardly slept, the stench of sweat and alcohol radiated off of his shirtless person.</p>
<p>“Y/N?” he whispered, shocked at your presence.</p>
<p>You rocked on your heels waiting for more of an answer for a few moments before you resolved to speak. “Can I come in?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He stepped aside to let you pass through, “Come in.”</p>
<p>Taking a seat on a chair in the corner of his room, you crossed your legs while pondering where to start. You didn’t want to start off with an argument, but you had to ensure the two of you could even hold a proper conversation. “Are you sober?”</p>
<p>“What?” Harrison scratched the back of his neck, walking over to sit on his bed. “Oh. Yeah, I’m sober.”</p>
<p>“Do you remember last night?”</p>
<p>“I do. Most of it, I think.”</p>
<p>“Do you know what happened after you left me at the store?”</p>
<p>Harrison scoffed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Tom kindly reminded me this morning as well as shouted at me last night about it. So, yes.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“And what?”</p>
<p>You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Am I not getting an apology?”</p>
<p>Standing abruptly, he walked over to his dresser, pulling out a t-shirt. “Y/N, it’s not my fault what happened. London is a dangerous place. You should’ve stayed put and waited for the car to come instead of walking off.” Placing his arms through the shirt, he pulled the rest of the shirt on over his head.</p>
<p>“The car that you never sent for in the first place, right?”</p>
<p>Still not meeting your eyes, he responded curtly, “Listen, you don’t get it. I was stressed. Tom has been riding my ass all week, hounding me about every little thing. I just needed a night to let loose, and that’s what I did.” He plopped back down on his bed on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry if I forgot to call the car.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean ‘if’ you forgot? There was no car, Harrison. The car never came because you didn’t bother to send for one. What else was I supposed to do? Walking was my only option.”</p>
<p>You gripped the armrest to retrain your anger, your voice raising instinctively.</p>
<p>“You didn’t even call me. I would’ve sent one if you reminded me.” He dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand, which only added to your growing annoyance at his inability to accept responsibility.</p>
<p>“Are you serious? Harrison, check your phone right now and tell me I didn’t try calling.”</p>
<p>He sighed, patting around his bed, not putting any real effort into looking for it. “I don’t know where it is.”</p>
<p>“Convenient,” you scoffed, teeth gritted.</p>
<p>“Listen, princess,” he spat, sitting up to finally meet your gaze, “Your little prince charming, Tom, came to your rescue last night so what’s the big deal?”</p>
<p>Sitting up more in your chair, you leaned towards Harrison. “The big deal is that my boyfriend abandoned me, and I had to call his cousin to come to my aid since he was too busy doing a line of cocaine in the lounge safe and sound at home.”</p>
<p>“Is that what you’re actually mad about? The cocaine?” He threw his hands up in exasperation.</p>
<p>“I am upset about that too, but right now we’re talking about the fact that you didn’t even bother to make sure I was safe. Where were you after Tom told you what happened? You never came to see me or ask how I was. Were you too bloody worried about yourself? Even since I came to your door you haven’t asked how I’m doing.”</p>
<p>Harrison rolled his eyes at you. “You’re sitting right in front of me. I can see you’re fine. There’s no need to ask,” he shrugged.</p>
<p>Leaning back against the back of the seat now, suppressing your rage, you closed your eyes and said, “Okay, then. If you don’t want to talk about that, let’s discuss the drugs.”</p>
<p>“You’re impossible, Y/N.” Harrison fell back on his back against the bed sheets.</p>
<p>“You never even told me you used drugs. How do you expect me to be fine with you using hardcore drugs like cocaine?”</p>
<p>“It’s normal. In case you’ve forgotten, I am a member of a mob. And may I also remind you that you were aware of that before you said yes to going on a date with me and before you became my girlfriend,” he accused.</p>
<p>“Being a member of an organization is different than participating in the use of their products, Harrison. You and I both know that if I were aware of your drug use, the answer would have been much different to both of those questions.”</p>
<p>Raising his voice at the final straw, Harrison barked, “Fuck you, Y/N. You’re so bloody judgmental. Prudish bitch. If you’re just going to sit there and insult me, then why don’t you get the fuck out of my bloody house.” Now he met your teary eyes while shouting. “You’ve caused us enough problems as it is.”</p>
<p>You sat still, not knowing what to say. On the verge of tears, the sorrow and loss collected into tiny droplets waiting at a moment’s notice to flee from their resting place in the corner of your eye. This was the end of your relationship, you could tell – the special three months spent with Harrison by your side would all fall apart at the hands of powdery white substance.</p>
<p>“Did you not hear me? Do I need to make it more obvious to you? You’ve been doing nothing but freeloading off of my family for months now. Get your own fucking house. Your own job. And your own goddamn life. And get out.”</p>
<p>Unsure if you could sustain the weight of your own body, you rose from your seat slowly.</p>
<p>The once couple faced each other in a fleeting moment of remorse as expressions softened while eyeing the emotional state of one another. Things had gotten so out of control so quickly. Voices were raised, comments were said, choices were made, none of which could be taken back. As readily as the moment came, it turned with you and walked out the door.</p>
<p>Harrison, left in the wake of your absence, picked up the nearest object – an empty glass – and chucked it at the wall of his bedroom. It shattered into pieces. The shards sparkled in the light of sun beaming through the window as they fell to the floor.</p>
<p>Harrison stared at the glass broken beyond repair, a plethora of pieces to pick up, far too many to put back together again. It had been a purposeful glass before, fulfilling its duty day in and day out. And in one moment it became a thing of the past, an all too distant memory, a mere shadow of what it once was.</p>
<p>The noise from the shattered glass resounded throughout the house. You cringed, but carried on with what you were doing. You slid your suitcase from your last hurried escape out from underneath the bed, laying it on top of the duvet, and began collecting what little belongings you had to flee once more. Running and hiding all over again. Is this the life you would have to face time and time again now?</p>
<p>Multiple hasty footsteps bounded up the staircase. They dashed past your room and down the hall to Harrison’s. Muffled voices conversed for a few moments before a single set of footsteps came back to her door.</p>
<p>“Y/N/N, are you alr-” Tom suspended his question upon witnessing the open suitcase and you frantically packing. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>He was met with silence as you continued packing, pulling all of your clothes from the drawers and throwing them into a pile on your bed. Stepping away from the doorframe, Tom came to stand next to you as you leaned over the bag. Refusing to meet his gaze, you concentrated on the task in front of you – getting out as fast as possible.</p>
<p>“Whoah, princess, where are you going?”</p>
<p>“Leaving.”</p>
<p>His brows furrowed and his arms crossed over his front. “What? No, you can’t go.”</p>
<p>You folded another shirt sloppily, tossing it into the suitcase. “You can’t make me stay. Besides, I’ve imposed on your family for long enough.”</p>
<p>“No one thinks that, love. We love having you here. I love having you here.”</p>
<p>You stopped your packing briefly and looked at Tom sincerely. “Not everyone does, Tom.”</p>
<p>“Is this about Harrison?”</p>
<p>You remained silent as you walked over to the wardrobe, removing the few pieces of hanging clothing. Returning to the bed, your folding became careless, rolling the fabric into wads and placing them on top of more neatly folded clothes.</p>
<p>“What did he fucking say to you? Because I swear to go-”</p>
<p>“Nothing that isn’t true.” Tears started to swell in your eyes once more as a lump formed in your throat. All you could see were blurs of reds, greens, and blues as you persisted folding.</p>
<p>“You can’t expect me to believe that when you’re standing here trying-” Tom grabbed a couple shirts from the top of your bag, tossing them back on the bed with the other unfolded items. “-trying to pack your life up.”</p>
<p>Glaring at him, you refolded the shirt and put it back in the suitcase. “I have relied on your family for everything since I arrived here. I only have a roof over my head because of you. I only have a job because of you. I only have food to eat because of you. I have nothing of my own here besides my clothes, and that isn’t right.”</p>
<p>Tom placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from packing, and forced you to look at him. “But you earned the job. You’re the best accountant we’ve ever had. Please don’t leave, princess.” He thumbed over your shoulders, holding you still for a few moments. His dark eyes pleaded with you as he scanned your face for any sign of a change of heart.</p>
<p>You sighed, biting your trembling lip for a moment. “If you need me to, I can balance the books until you find someone to replace me, but I won’t be accepting any more handouts from you or your family. You’ve done more than I could ever repay you for.” You paused, shrugging off his hands from your shoulders, and smiled sadly. “I even owe you my life, Tom.”</p>
<p>“Y/N, please,” desperation leaking from his lips like sweet poison to your ears, tempting you to stay.</p>
<p>The dress in your hand remained partly folded as you reflected on the name Tom called you – your full name. You stared at the skirt of the dress, cheery and bright, much how your time at the Parish used to be. “You haven’t called me that in a long time,” you muttered.</p>
<p>Tom reached out and grabbed your hands holding the dress, letting it fall to the bed amongst the heap of other clothes as his warm and strong hands caressed your cold, clammy ones. “Because you’re Y/N/N to me. Y/N/N that lives down the hall. Y/N/N that never has an opinion about what movie we watch for movie night unless it’s a horror film. Y/N/N that is my cooking buddy. Y/N/N that visits me in my office on Fridays making my life a little more bearable.” Pulling you in for a hug, he placed your hands on his back and wrapped his arms around you, holding your body close against his chest. The words he mumbled into your hair broke your heart even more. “Stay. Please, princess.”</p>
<p>You shook your head against him. As much as it hurts right now, it would hurt more to stay. Anguish, heartbreak, and repressed longing would await you if you chose to remain here. It would be no simple task avoiding Harrison as the two of you would still live under the same roof. And while the burdensome emotions of your conversation with your now ex-boyfriend were still fresh in your heart, you knew the sorrow would so easily be masked by comfort offered by his cousin. Such sorrow that would soon turn to yearning for his best friend once more. As much as he hurt you, you could not do that to Harrison. Not right in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>Tom rubbed your back soothingly, but persisted, “There are people out there who know who you are. People who know who you work for. You can’t just go without precautions.”</p>
<p>Your voice cracked under the weight of your decision to leave; you said, “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You squeezed him tighter before releasing yourself from his embrace.</p>
<p>You dared not meet his eyes. His pleas begging you to stay stung worse with each blow. Zipping up your now full suitcase, you started to drag it off the bed.</p>
<p>Tom held the bag in place, causing you to woefully look at his face. His eyes were glossy and his brows sat heavily on his face. His lips were pulled into a tight line. Tom’s expression was all it took for you to be reassured of the genuineness of your friendship, that he meant every word he uttered in persisting you to remain at the Holland-Osterfield Parish. And in that moment, you thought you might succumb to his wishes. As you opened your mouth to protest any more convincing, Tom interrupted. His tone faltered as his resolute facade quickly spiraled to blatant heartbreak.</p>
<p>“At least let me drive you.”</p>
<p>Nodding your head in agreement, you released your hold of the bag. Tom grabbed the handle and effortlessly carried it down the flight of stairs. He paused to snag a set of keys from the table by the doorway, waiting for you by the front door.</p>
<p>“I should tell Olivia goodbye first,” you stated.</p>
<p>Heels clicked against the stone stairs. Both you and Tom turned your eyes to see Liv descending the steps. The silent tears streaming down her face told you she was already aware of your difficult decision. When she reached the bottom, she flung her arms around you and sobbed heavily, and you rubbed her back comfortingly.</p>
<p>After she collected herself, Olivia whispered into your hair, “Do what’s best for you, but just know you are always welcome here. No matter what Harrison says. He’s just bitter he fucked up and lost someone as amazing as you.”</p>
<p>The friends hugged tighter before finally breaking the embrace.</p>
<p>“Text me where you end up staying. I will come see you as soon as you let me.”</p>
<p>You reassured her with a tug on the corner of your lips. “I will. I promise.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was not long before Tom parked the car in the driveway of a small house. The front windows were guarded by a short tree in the midst of shedding its pretty leaves, but even then, you could tell no one actively lived here. The house appeared sad and lonely, not having the loving touch of a family to bring its walls to life.</p><p>“Where are we?” you asked, turning to Tom whose gaze was transfixed on the quaint residence.</p><p>“Home.”</p><p>“Home?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt. “This is my childhood home.”</p><p>It was only then that he turned to face you, the corner of his lips tugging upward in a sad smile. Tom might not have said anything, but his eyes could not conceal the burden in his heart as he looked longingly at the house full of treasured memories.</p><p>“Tom,” you started. “You don’t have to-”</p><p>“It’s the only place you’ll be safe.”</p><p>The stern look on his features and the commanding tone in his voice urged you not to push any further, so you dropped it. You didn’t want him to have to share something so personal with you if he wasn’t comfortable doing so. And seeing the look in his eyes told you that this house meant a lot to him.</p><p>Wordlessly, Tom exited the car, opening the backdoor to retrieve your suitcase. You followed suit, shutting the passenger door behind you before following Tom to the front steps of the residence. He sighed as he pulled out a key from his jacket pocket, fitting it into the lock and opening the door.</p><p>The house was simple, the furnishings clearly well-used in a previous lifetime. A thin layer of dust coated the furniture, and you couldn’t help but wonder why the house wasn’t in worse shape.</p><p>As Tom placed the luggage in the entryway, he glanced around himself.</p><p>“My father pays for it to be cleaned once a month so it shouldn’t be unlivable by any means.”</p><p>When you looked back at Tom, you didn’t see an audacious, authoritative mobster, you beheld the face of a young man whose life had been full of crime and lawlessness, leaving no room for the simple pleasures in life such as a plain and complacent home life. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he rocked on the heels of his shiny dress shoes like a child awaiting reprimand for naughty wrong-doings.</p><p>As Tom strolled about the house, you watched as he poked and prodded at the artifacts left behind – movies, books, old photographs hanging on the walls. The photos captured a family that no longer bared their innocence with shy smiles and deep belly-laughs. Those cherished luxuries had been replaced by wads of cash, stacks of drugs, deadly weapons long ago. Even to you, this life seemed a world away for someone like Tom.</p><p>You took the liberty of walking around the space yourself, its archaic charm presented in old-fashioned floral wallpaper and dark crown molding as you moved from room to room. The kitchen was in the worst shape, the appliances severely outdated and in dire need of a good scrubbing despite not being used for years. As you grazed your fingers across the dining room table, you felt a sense of pride well up inside of you. While not accomplished by the most noble means, the Holland family story was a tale of rags to riches, and you were honored that Tom shared this part, the less notable part, of his life with you.</p><p>When you looked up from the table, Tom was waiting for you in the archway, his own eyes shimmering with dignity as he watched you pace about the room.</p><p>“How long did you live here?” you asked softly.</p><p>Tom crossed his arms over his front. “The first several years of my life. My mum wanted to keep her children out of the lifestyle.” He scoffed, readjusting the rolex on his wrist. “You can see how well that worked out.”</p><p>You gave him a small smile, deciphering how much you could ask before he stopped sharing. Looking back at the wooden table, scuff marks littered all around the floor at its legs, you pictured the family eating dinner together – none the wiser that one day, it would be all but a bleak memory.</p><p>“Come on.” Tom nodded his head towards the end of the short hallway. “I’ll show you where you can stay.”</p><p>Following behind him, Tom lugged your suitcase to a room at one end of the house. When you walked in, you immediately recognized it to be Tom’s old bedroom. It was plain with a boyish charm. Little toy cars adorned the room, giving you a clear picture of how young Tom must have been when they moved out.</p><p>“Thank you,” you muttered when he placed your bag on the bed.</p><p>He walked past you as if to leave, and you sighed heavily at the prospect of being left alone so soon.</p><p>Tom lingered in the doorway of his old room as he watched you unpack a few items from your suitcase. As you pulled out a book from your bag, tossing it on the neatly made bed, you shot a teasing glare as he leaned against the doorframe.</p><p>“Are you going to stand there and watch me all day? I thought you had a shipment to prepare for today.”</p><p>Ignoring your comment, Tom implored, “Y/N, you know you don’t have to do this. I can take you to an empty house on the property where you won’t see Harrison hardly ever. You’re safer with us.”</p><p>You rolled your eyes at him. He had already made several attempts on the drive over to sway your decision, offering countless other solutions. While alluring, none of them were the right choice. Harrison was a part of Tom’s family and to rebel against his wishes for you to leave seemed like a low blow. The pair had broken up for a reason, and seeing an ex around one’s own household would not be an ideal situation for moving on for anyone.</p><p>Unwavering and rather annoyed at Tom now, you huffed. “I’ve made up my mind. At least try to pretend you respect it.”</p><p>“You know I’m just concerned for your safety.” Before you could retaliate, he lifted his arms in defeat. “And I know you can handle yourself. I’m just worried is all.”</p><p>You released a large breath of air and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Tom gladly accepted your embrace, hugging you tightly and nestling his nose into the sweet scent of your hair. His eyes fluttered shut, relishing the moment.</p><p>He mumbled into your hair, “You know, I’m not going to know what to do with myself not seeing you everyday.”</p><p>Laughter shook your chest. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”</p><p>“Never,” he promised with a tight squeeze.</p><p>It was not until Friday rolled around that you had the opportunity to see Tom again. A soft knock sounded on the door of the house. Standing on your tip-toes, you peered out the peephole to see who was requesting entry. Your stomach twisted in excited knots when you laid eyes on the handsome man in a suit, dark lock of hair falling across his forehead. He twisted his expensive watch on his wrist while waiting for you to open the door.</p><p>“Miss me?” he teased, a signature smirk dangling from his lips.</p><p>“Yes,” you responded a little too readily. Heat rose to your face as your quick reply elicited an amused chuckle from the man.</p><p>You stepped aside, allowing him to come inside. Tom wandered into the living room, placing the papers in his arms down on the coffee table and held his arms open.</p><p>“What? No hug?” he teased.</p><p>A grin grew on your face as you ran into his arms with a soft thud. Your face buried in his chest, you inhaled the familiar and comforting scent that you attributed to Tom – the faint smell of cigar smoke, mint, and notes of sandalwood.</p><p>When you broke apart, Tom said, “We’re looking for a new accountant, but you’ve made it awfully difficult for us. I’m beginning to think you’re irreplaceable, princess.” He ended his statement with another flash of his genuine smile.</p><p>Bashfully, you looked away from him, rubbing your arm up and down. “I’m sure you’ll find someone even better.”</p><p>“Doubt it.” He plopped down on one of the couches, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “I can respond to some work emails while you look over the payroll. And then I can leave the rest here to pick up next Friday.”</p><p>A frown painted your face at the thought of work being the only reason for his visit. But you pushed it aside, grateful that he was here at all. “Sounds good.”</p><p>There was not much else you could do to prolong the inevitable. Stalling for an hour and a half already, you drew out signing and reviewing documents, not wanting Tom to leave just yet. He seemed to catch on to your rereading the same papers for the third or so time as you mindlessly stared at the same paragraph for minutes on end, lost in another world of thought.</p><p>In order to put you at ease, Tom offered to watch a movie with you once you were finished since you did not have your usual movie night that week. You readily agreed, and quickly finished reviewing the piece of paper in your hand to make it seem like you were actually revising it.</p><p>Tom sauntered over to the TV stand to pick out a movie from the cupboard, and you smirked when he chose a romantic comedy, but bit back your teasing comments for another time.</p><p>“Are you not going to sit next to me?” you asked when he sat down on the opposite couch.</p><p>“Oh yeah. Can’t leave my movie buddy hanging,” he said, promptly moving to sit right next to you. Your thighs grazed as he was sitting so close, and you smiled to yourself at the lack of awkwardness despite the new setting.</p><p>Though he only stayed for one movie, Tom’s presence eased your loneliness for a couple days. You had never lived entirely on your own before, and the transition was proving to be more difficult than anticipated.</p><p>But days passed, and the ache in your heart returned.</p><p>On the second Friday, you discovered the reason Tom and Olivia had been steering clear of the residence. Tom feared by visiting frequently, it would attract undesired attention from enemies of the mob, namely whoever cornered you in the alleyway nights ago. The night of the attack proved the Holland and Osterfield families had rivals who would spare no mercy to anyone affiliated with them, and it was deemed for the best to not command any attention to the safe house.</p><p>As Tom lounged on the sofa with his feet propped up on the coffee table, he recounted the progress he had made in pinpointing who was responsible for your attack.</p><p>He approached the subject lightly after sharing his progress, asking, “Darling, what do you remember about the people who attacked you? Any facial features that stood out? The general build of their body? Anything is helpful.”</p><p>You chewed on your fingernail, mulling the question over and reluctantly recalling the events of that night. “It’s hard to remember much. It was all a blur, and I was so scared. All I could focus on was his hand wrapped around my throat and listening for your car to pull up.”</p><p>Humming in confirmation, Tom combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. He sat up straighter when you continued.</p><p>“But I have dreams sometimes about that night.” You paused, swallowing harshly. “I don’t know if the face in my dream is what one the men actually looked like, but it is always the same in each dream. A burly guy with a scruffy face. His mustache is fuller than the rest of his facial hair. It’s black and he has olive-toned skin. There’s harsh lines around his eyes like he’s middle-aged.”</p><p>Reaching into a manila folder he brought along with him, Tom pulled out a photograph. It was in black and white and blurry like it had been taken by a surveillance camera. A tall man that roughly fit the description you had just recounted was the focus, stalking around the corner of a building.</p><p>“Is this him?” Tom asked.</p><p>You took the photo from his hand, your fingertips brushing as he passed it to you. You studied the image, but could draw no sure conclusion for fear of incriminating an innocent man. “I don’t know. I can’t really see his face in this photo. And that’s really all I see in my nightmares.”</p><p>When you had stared at the picture for long enough, Tom took it away from you, placing it back into the folder. “I didn’t know you were having nightmares.”</p><p>“Yeah.” You watched as he slipped his dress shoes back on his feet. “They don’t happen all the time. Just a lot of the time.” Your voice trailed off at the end of your confession.</p><p>“You still have a room at the Parish. I can send a car any time to come get you if you’d feel safer with other people around.”</p><p>Smiling at his offer, you assured him you would let him know if you ever needed to spend the night. He ended his visit with a quick hug before collecting the stack of papers and folders and left the house.</p><p>Olivia came around much more frequently after that. She even stayed the night a few times since you moved out. It was still surreal for you to not have Liv right across the hall from you every night. But the friends made up for the distance with usual banter and constant contact.</p><p>One visit, Olivia came bearing a gift from a certain cousin, a daring expression on her face like she was up to no good. She dramatically placed it on the coffee table in front of you, a smirk on her lips.</p><p>“What’s this?” you questioned.</p><p>“Oh just a delivery from your lover.”</p><p>You raised an eyebrow. “My lover?”</p><p>“A dashing fellow, really. Dark hair, always wears a suit, his name rhymes with Romas.”</p><p>You rolled your eyes at Liv, but opened the book anyways, flipping through the pages. An index card stuck out of the pages halfway through. Reading the note, the scratched ink said, “To entertain you when you can’t sleep.” There were notes scribbled all over the margins marking favorite moments, witty comments, profound thoughts. You couldn’t help but grin at the sweet sentiment, reminding you of all the times you sat in Tom’s office reading to keep him company while he worked.</p><p>Half way through the following week, a hasty knock on the door interrupted your work. You marched with clenched fists to see who was there, not in the mood to be bothered. A client had not fulfilled their payment for the second week in a row, leaving the books unbalanced and you quite irritated. You knew once you informed Tom he would readily lose his temper, which is exactly what happened. Knowing you had to upset him and drove him to perform the less admirable aspect of his job was enough to aggravate you for the rest of the day.</p><p>Swinging the door wide, not even bothering to look out the peephole, you were met with an empty porch. A blur of color caught your eye, dragging your line of vision down to your feet. A bouquet of bright red roses in a glass vase stood erect by the fading welcome mat alongside some sweets and a bottle of wine.</p><p>With pinched brows, you removed the gifts from the front porch and set them on the coffee table inside. A small card propped up amongst the flowers caught your eye. You flipped the paper open, reading the simple message engraved on the card.</p><p>“<em>Can’t wait to see you. -T</em>”</p><p>Your heart skipped a beat. Did Tom send you flowers?</p><p>Heat flooded your cheeks as you admired the colorful bloomed flower arrangement sitting in front of you. The feelings you had been trying to suppress fought their way to the forefront of your mind. If you had not been so smitten, you would have been ashamed of how quickly your heart moved on from the blond boy who broke your heart merely a couple weeks prior. Perhaps you had been fooling yourself all along. But perhaps there was a subconscious reason you did not put up a bigger fight to save yours and Harrison’s relationship.</p><p>The next two Fridays ended in the same manner – a text from Tom with an apology and a reason as to why he could not come over to pick up the paperwork. You missed him terribly, more than you thought you would. You knew it was not his fault, the unpredictable life of running a mob left little room for solidified and kept promises.</p><p>You looked over to the coffee table, the pretty roses now drooping sadly, the wilted petals falling to the wooden surface when they could bear it no longer. You sighed. <em>You</em> could bear it no longer. You were determined; you had to see him.</p><p>The club was dark. Bass boomed through the speakers, vibrations coursing through the veins of the sweaty dancing bodies on the floor. Strobe lights of all colors illuminated parts of the club just enough to see around the establishment. Spilt drinks littered the dance floor along with cigarette butts and empty baggies with residual white powder. Drunk friends stumbled in euphoric haze with each other to the bar for another round of shots.</p><p>You tugged at the end of your short dress. You had not worn such attire since the events of that fateful night transpired, bringing you to reside at the Holland-Osterfield Parish. Nervously, your eyes scanned the room for a particular face.</p><p>The ever growing weight of going to a club on your own started to cloud your determination. No one seemed to take notice of you, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to yourself. Not yet, at least. Once you fulfilled your mission, jealous and scornful eyes would fall on you, you knew it already – the man commanded attention wherever he went. But that had yet to happen because you had yet to find who you came here for.</p><p>It was a surprise visit, and you could not wait to see his face after spending weeks apart. The only issue was he had not invited you here.</p><p>Opening the text on your phone, the blue light shined blindingly in the dimly lit club as you reread the message.</p><p><em>Tom</em>: Sorry I can’t make it tonight. I’ll be at Regio’s</p><p>Longing to see him, you could hardly contain your excitement upon deciding to surprise Tom at the downtown club. You carefully applied your makeup, adding bright red lipstick to match your heels. You were already flushed at the thought of Tom seeing you in this dress. It was tight against your figure and even the slightest movement caused the already scanty dress to expose more of your thighs, leaving little to the imagination.</p><p>“Do you want to dance?” a tall, drunken man asked you. He bumped into your shoulder in his inebriated state, a distasteful frown painted your face as a result.</p><p>You shook your head no knowing your voice would not carry over the booming speakers nearby. He thankfully did not press any farther, locating another lonesome female to be his next target.</p><p>Pushing through the crowded body of people, you searched for a back room of sorts. While Tom seemed the party type, you knew this was likely not a leisurely visit, business always taking precedence over fun. And he was never one to mix business and pleasure.</p><p>The room was sticky and your hair started to cling to the back of your neck when you spotted a few booths lining the back wall. There was a red velvet rope draped in front of them, leaving a few feet between the last dancing person and the prestigious individuals conducting business in the back of the club. A bouncer stood at the end of the rope, fueling the egotistical persons on the other side of the boundary with his arms crossed in front of his body to ward off any unwelcome guests.</p><p>When you reached the edge of the sea of people, you peered into the booths. The bouncer eyed you closely at the peculiar behavior. No one else seemed to be aware of the existence of the back of the club, their focus preoccupied on the alcohol pumping through their systems, dance partners, and who they were taking home after the night was over.</p><p>The booths were large and were almost like miniature rooms. Giant u-shaped cushioned benches lined the walls of the booth. A table sat in the middle holding playing cards, pints of beer, and poker chips. Smoke clouded the area and the familiar scent of cigar sticks wafted into the air around the middle booth. It was there you discovered him.</p><p>An arm strewn over the back of the booth, one leg crossed over the other, his foot was tapping against the embellished rug under the table. With a flick of his head, Tom sought to keep the piece of hair with a mind of its own at bay. His dark eyes scanned the other occupants of the booth, two cards in his right hand while he finished off a sweating pint of beer with his left.</p><p>Glancing back at the entrance, you started to second guess your plan.</p><p>What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he had just been polite in keeping contact with you since you left the Holland-Osterfield Parish?</p><p>His business associates intimidated you with their suit-clad, burley figures. Tom was well built, but not to the same extent of the other men. As you sized them up, you concluded their company was not how you wished to spend your evening. You spun on your heel, your anxiety catching up with you and your confidence ebbing away.</p><p>This was a bad idea. You didn’t belong here … but it was too late.</p><p>“Hey, pretty thing. Looking for a good time?” a taunting voice pierced through your petrified person. Stunned and shaking now, you turned to look at the man who called out to you.</p><p>He was sitting across from Tom. His deceivingly bright eyes shined even in the inconsistent lighting of the club, a devilish smile playing on his lips. Lifting a finger in a come hither motion, the stranger beckoned you to join them on the other side of the exclusive rope.</p><p>The other men roared when you stood frozen in place.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” another harassed, mischief dancing in his eyes.</p><p>“Did you get all dressed up for us, sweet thing?”</p><p>A fist slammed on the table.</p><p>“That’s enough, lads,” Tom commanded, his London accent stronger than ever. His teeth locked together as his darkened eyes bore into your figure. They dipped to your feet and traced their way back up to your face. He was livid, that much was clear, but you couldn’t be sure if it was the remarks or your presence setting him off.</p><p>All you knew for certain was that Tom was far from pleased to see you, and your eyes began to swell with tears – tears of both fear and failure. You bit your lip hard to keep them at bay, the faint taste of copper lingering on your tongue, not allowing yourself to become a justifiable laughing stock to the rough crowd in front of you.</p><p>“She your bird, Tom?” the first bloke inquired as he lit the end of his cigar, puffing out a cloud of smoke towards you as a wordless taunt.</p><p>Tom’s eyes finally tore away from you, jaw shifting as he placed his cards face down on the table, and fear struck your heart. A cold arrow pierced you, the frostbite trickling down into your stomach and settling into the nerves of your feet. It was an act of abandonment – leaving you to fend for yourself in a room of powerful and dangerous men the second his gaze left you alone on the other side of the rope.</p><p>The empty promise of protection rang through your ears as soon as he looked away.</p><p>“<em>I promise I will do everything in my power to ensure no one hurts you again.</em>”</p><p>What a lie it was – a grand gesture. A notion of loyalty and a covenant of love. If not romantic, then at least platonic love. Had all been washed away upon your departure from the estate that chilly September morning?</p><p>When Tom opened his mouth to speak, his tone was mechanical, well thought out, worded meticulously. And it struck you like a punch to the jaw, leaving you reeling from its blow in the wake of a one sided fight. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”</p><p>The ebullient laughter rose once more, each chuckle another strike to your defenseless body. The music faded and all you could hear was Tom’s cold diction pushing, no, shoving you away.</p><p>Not that he had never known you, been acquainted with you, but he had never even seen you. A status that could easily be endowed to a stranger was not worthy to bestow upon you in Tom’s eyes.</p><p>How easily you forgot there’s no consolation for wearing your heart on your sleeve in this world you were dragged into for love has never graced the hearts of those you bare it to. It was survival of the fittest—or the heartless.</p><p>Not wanting to be more of a spectacle than you already were, you turned away from the men and pushed your way through the crowd once more. Bodies bumped into you as you carelessly and with little effort fought your way out the club. Lost and abandoned once more, you let the wave of the people move you through your daze towards the entrance.</p><p>Finally, the frigid air pricked at your exposed skin, a shiver immediately shaking your body as you stepped out of the club and onto the sidewalk, the reality of your circumstances hitting you even harder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Aftertaste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You were alone and quickly growing cold as the air nipped at your exposed legs and arms in your short dress. The one person whom you had come all this way for had pretended to not even know you. It stung like a wasp angrily protecting its nest, your heart open and vulnerable, so easily wounded. You could feel the pain in your chest as you started the trek back to the house in the middle of the night. London was a huge city, full of people and things to do, but in that moment you had never felt so alone or lost. The agonizing shame of embarrassment burned its mark on your cheeks as you walked down the sidewalk by yourself.</p>
<p>When you pictured the night playing out, you imagined Tom’s cheeky smile greeting you, perhaps a dance and some drinks shared. How easily those fantasies were dashed when his fiery eyes met your person on the other side of the velvet rope. Tom’s words cut like he carved out a piece of your heart, leaving it hollow, empty, and bare like the house you were walking home to.</p>
<p>You blinked back icy tears as the wind picked up, hurling more frigid insults on your cheeks in the form of wind gusts. You clutched your arms across your body, holding yourself. If no one else was going to do it, you would do it for yourself. Shaking your head, you tried to rid your mind of Tom. You didn’t need him or his approval. You were an independent woman who had stayed out of trouble since your involvement with the Holland and Osterfield families, and you were on your way to building a new life for yourself. The boy would have merely been an added bonus.</p>
<p>Your face smiled but your heart frowned as you convinced yourself he wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he had merely viewed you as a friend, his gifts and flirtatious comments meaning nothing more than passing comments to the mobster. Whatever it had been, it was clearly not a romantic gesture as you had so desperately hoped.</p>
<p>When you finally made it to the residence, your arms felt frozen in place. Your teeth chattered, and your hand shook as you unlocked the door to the quaint home. The warm air inside immediately engulfed you, and you stood in the door way allowing yourself to unthaw. Breathing deeply, you meditated on the new feeling of home — your new life — warm, peaceful, and alone.</p>
<p>Stripping your dress off, you changed into pajama pants and a cozy hoodie. You pulled fuzzy socks on your feet and began washing the makeup off your face. The bright red lipstick refused to come off, its place on your lips firm and settled as nothing — or no one — dared to challenge its place on the curve of your mouth. After some serious scrubbing, you were left bare-faced and feeling much lighter – happier, even – than before. There was something about wiping away the face of expectations of the night that made you feel relief.</p>
<p>You walked over to Tom’s old bed, sitting on the edge of it when hasty, heavy knocks sounded from the front door. Your heart leapt in your chest. The person on the other side wiggled the handle impatiently, pounding on the door again. Looking around frantically, you sought an object that could be used as a weapon of some kind knowing you had nothing that would do substantial damage. Your eye landed on a screwdriver laying on your dresser from when you tried to assemble a small bookshelf for the room. This would have to do, you thought.</p>
<p>Grabbing the unimpressive tool, you stalked to the living room where you could view the front door. The knocking ceased, but your phone started ringing. You cursed under your breath. Surely whoever was waiting for you would hear it and know there was someone inside the house. Your heart pounded wildly and sweat collected on the palms of your hand, threatening to release the screwdriver. You gripped it tightly before walking up to the peephole of the door.</p>
<p>Your breath hitched in your throat, and you unlocked the door, swinging it open.</p>
<p>“You can’t just do that!” you chastised, stomping away from the door.</p>
<p>Tom paraded into the room. “Why the fuck did you not come to the door or answer your phone? I could hear it ringing from out here.” Tom paused when he saw the tool in your hand. “What are you doing with that?”</p>
<p>“You fucking scared me! I thought you were trying to break in the way you were pounding on the door. Jesus, don’t do that, Tom.”</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes, tossing the tool onto the coffee table. You released a large breath of air, muttering “fuck” under your breath, partly out of relief, partly out of exasperation at the idea of hashing out the consequences of this night so soon. Your hands came up to your face, wiping down in resentment.</p>
<p>Clearing his throat, Tom waited for you to turn around. When you did, he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. The fire was still ablaze in his eyes but his mouth resisted pulling into a smirk.</p>
<p>“What?” you snapped, not knowing what the peculiar face was for.</p>
<p>“You really thought you were gonna do some damage with that bloody screwdriver?”</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes yet again. “Are you taking the piss? I don’t have a weapon so it was that or my bare hands.”</p>
<p>He huffed at you, shaking his head.</p>
<p>Irritation at the nerve he had showing up at your door after what he said earlier started to swell. “Did you just come here to make fun of me or do you have another reason to visit someone you’ve ‘never seen before in your life’?” Your fingers emphasized your point with air quotations before you crossed your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you.</p>
<p>His chuckle died and his brows settled on his forehead. “Why the bloody hell would you show up to a business dealing? Do you know how dangerous that is? If they found out who you are, what you mean to me — to my family — you’d be an instant target.”</p>
<p>You bit your lip as the tears came once more. “I just wanted to see you,” you whispered, suddenly recognizing how stupid you were thinking everything would be sunshine and rainbows upon seeing him at the club.</p>
<p>Tom’s eyes softened but his stern tone did not falter. “You need to be careful. And actually fucking think before you do shit like that. I would’ve never told you where I was if I had known you would have the audacity to show up.” He breathed out heavily. “And god-“ Tom tore his fingers through his hair harshly “-in that fucking dress no less.”</p>
<p>Heat started to burn your cheeks, and you looked down at your feet as Tom’s eyes trailed their way up your legs once more.</p>
<p>Tom stepped closer to you, reaching out and rubbing your upper arms up and down. His voice was barely above a whisper. “The whole bloody club couldn’t keep its eyes off you, princess.”</p>
<p>You scoffed, shrugging his hands off your body. “Didn’t stop you from looking away,” you murmured under your breath.</p>
<p>Tom stiffened, his jaw shifting at your accusation. “I only said that so they wouldn’t know I knew you.”</p>
<p>When you met his eyes, the flames in his eyes were dwindling, but all it would take was a fresh match to rekindle their fury. You didn’t want to fight; you truly did not want to argue with him. He was right, you would’ve been in danger. The deal could have gone south and then what? All you had on your person was your phone, credit card, ID, and house keys – all of which were shoved into your bra upon entering the night club. Tom had enough to worry about facing those dangerous men. The last thing he needed was a distraction and an extra person to protect. But all you could think about was how abandoned you felt when he turned his back on you — metaphorically and physically.</p>
<p>Your voice wobbled with your bottom lip when you said, “But you left me all alone.”</p>
<p>“Darling,” he breathed. “You know it wasn’t like that. I was outnumbered. Harry was supposed to come with me, but Sam needed backup collecting a late payment, so I was there alone. I wouldn’t have been able to adequately do my job and keep you safe.” He sighed, realising how it sounded like he was putting his career before you, so he clarified himself. “And by saying I didn’t know you, I could do both of those things.”</p>
<p>Shrugging, you dismissed his explanation, not wanting to apologize for possibly jeopardizing both your lives. The humiliation of the whole situation was enough punishment on its own. You didn’t need Tom to add to it.</p>
<p>Quiet settled in the room, both waiting for the other to speak. After a minute or so, Tom inhaled sharply. “Are you … are you seeing someone?”</p>
<p>You turned around, a confused expression on your face. “What? No. Why?”</p>
<p>He gestured with his chin towards the vase of wilted red roses sitting on the coffee table. “Who gave you those then?”</p>
<p>Your eyes widened, your brows furrowing after. “What do you mean? You sent me those.”</p>
<p>Tom chewed on his bottom lip, shaking his head. “No I didn’t.” He shoved his hands in his pocket, inspecting the floral arrangement. “Roses are overrated. Especially red roses. I would never send you-“ he waved a hand at the bouquet “-that.” A distasteful scowl sat on his face.</p>
<p>“Then who did send them?”</p>
<p>“Did it come with a note?”</p>
<p>You sifted through the bundle of fading red, finding the small white card with an inscription. “Can’t wait to see you,” you read in your mind. Opening your mouth to speak, you felt your throat clog with regret, more shame, and embarrassment all balling up making it difficult to breath. This gift was the one to spur your confidence to enact your plan to surprise him. You swallowed before reading the card aloud quietly.</p>
<p>Tom hummed, noticing how upset you looked. He took the card from your hands, flipping it over in his palm, pondering who could’ve sent the flowers. He dared to ask the question you knew would send you tears over the edge of your eyes.  “Did they send anything else?”</p>
<p>Wordlessly, you nodded your head in confirmation. You pointed to the kitchen counter where an unopened box of chocolates and a bottle of expensive wine sat. You had been saving the treats for when Tom came over next so the two of you could share. Blinking away the tears, a few slid down your flushed cheeks.</p>
<p>Tom walked over to the gifts, nodding approvingly that neither had been opened yet. “Well I don’t suggest you eat or drink these.”</p>
<p>Your voice croaked as you agreed with a “yeah.”</p>
<p>Spinning on his heel to face you again, he asked, “Anything else?”</p>
<p>Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to the coffee table where the marked copy of the book Olivia had brought over lay. Your shaky hand held it up for him to see. He quietly walked over to you, his dress shoes tapping against the tiled kitchen floor before being muffled by the carpeted rug under the seating area in the living room. Pulling you into a hug, he rested his cheek against your head.</p>
<p>“That one is from me, love.” He instantly felt you relax into him, your head resting fully against his shoulder. The tears streamed freely down your face creating a damp spot on his button down shirt.</p>
<p>“Shh. It’s alright. I’ve got you,” he cooed, threading his fingers in your hair.</p>
<p>“I just don’t understand why this is happening to me.”</p>
<p>“Someone is trying to mess with you – with us.”</p>
<p>“What the hell am I supposed to do?”</p>
<p>“You already know what I’m going to say, darling.” He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head. He mumbled into your hair so quietly you could hardly hear him say, “You’re safer with me.”</p>
<p>You sighed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to cling to. Shaking your head no, you refused to accept running as the answer – running right back to the place that dragged you into this mess in the first place.</p>
<p>Tom persisted, “You can’t stay here. Someone knows where you live. They know you’re affiliated with me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “That is dangerous information to have, and in the wrong hands, it could be deadly.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“No?”</p>
<p>You wiped the tears away. “No. I’m not leaving.”</p>
<p>“Y/N-”</p>
<p>“No! You can’t keep doing this, Tommy.”</p>
<p>His brows furrowed together. “Do what?”</p>
<p>“I’m either in or out. You can’t have both.” You pulled away from his chest to look him in the eyes. “You can’t push me away when it’s convenient for you and then pull me back in when you feel threatened. I’m either in this lifestyle or I’m out. Let me in or leave me alone. Which is it going to be?”</p>
<p>Ragged breaths left his nostrils flaring as you set the ultimatum. He mulled the question over for a few moments, weighing the consequences in his mind. “That is your decision to make.” Swallowing, he continued, “And I will respect it either way. If you’re in, I will let you in. And if you’re out, well, then you will be out – no exceptions.”</p>
<p>Stepping away from him, you sat on the sofa, leaning your elbows on your knees with your head held in your hands. Your world was beginning to feel smaller and smaller each second. One decision could change your life forever. Would you be free – of danger, fear, but also of love and friendship? Or would you be chained to consequence – of choices, work, but also of love and friendship?</p>
<p>“I lied to you,” he confessed, unable to handle the silence any longer. Stuffing his hands in his pants pockets, Tom rocked on his heels as he continued. “I haven’t been looking for a new accountant.”</p>
<p>You lifted your head and tilted it to the side as you listened.</p>
<p>“I’ve been procrastinating the inevitable for fear of losing you.”</p>
<p>The turmoil was evident on your face, and Tom sat next to you, fiddling with his fingers. “I’ve been selfish,” he confessed further. “I shouldn’t be drawing you into this lifestyle. You deserve so much better than a criminal and a house full of violence. But I can’t help myself.” You turned to face him, and he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and letting his hand linger on the side of your face.</p>
<p>He whispered, “You’re too damn beautiful of a person. And you know how I’m used to getting what I want.” Tom chuckled darkly, shaking his head at himself. Swallowing harshly, he thumbed over your cheek. “But not when it comes to you.”</p>
<p>You dazzled at him, unsure of what to say. What was he trying to say? His heavy gaze felt as if he was reading you like the first moment the two of you met months ago.</p>
<p>Licking his lips, Tom went on. “I’ve waited patiently for Harrison to leave the picture. For you to feel safe again. For the right timing. But, dammit, none of that is worth losing you. So the decision is yours. You don’t have to give me an answer now. Or even next week.” He smiled slightly seeing your stunned expression. “I know you understand the risk, and I want you to think it through thoroughly and carefully so there’s no regrets, no second guessing.” There was a pause. “But say the word, and I’ll drop my pursuit immediately.”</p>
<p>As much as you wanted to word vomit everything you had been feeling — towards him, towards the mob, towards your own life — all you could manage to do was nod your head. Your mind was racing with his confessions and what on earth do you say to someone who has left you feeling like shit one moment and like you’re sitting on a pedestal the next.</p>
<p>Tom stood up from the couch in front of you, silently waiting for a response. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his shiny Rolex prominent on his wrist, a reminder of his status and how different his lifestyle was from yours. His head tilted to the side, wordlessly prompting you to say something. Anything.</p>
<p>Say something, say something, you screamed at yourself.</p>
<p>Your mouth opened, but quickly shut at the jumble of diction floating in your mind. You said nothing.</p>
<p>As the silence started to turn uncomfortable, Tom took it as a hint to leave. He stepped closer to your person, his face inches from yours. Reaching up, he cupped his hands on the side of your face. He placed a soft, tender kiss on your forehead before dipping his head and walking out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the events of the night replaying in your head.</p>
<p>Even after his departure, you could feel the kiss Tom left on your forehead. You lifted a hand to your face, gently ghosting over the spot he caressed with his lips. It felt different than all the other times he had left the same mark of affection on you previously. This time, there was no obstruction to divide them. He had aired his truth, bared his heart to you, and you were still basking in the revelation that your feelings had not been one-sided this entire time.</p>
<p>Mulling over in your mind what on earth to say to him, you vowed not to bring it up again until you were certain of your answer. For how could you turn a blind eye to the bruised knuckles and split lips? Sleepless nights anxiously awaiting his safe return home that would be far from guaranteed? Your morals screamed one thing, but your heart screamed another. The confusion was unsettling, so you decided to sleep on it to clear your head. Perhaps the next morning would bring clarity.</p>
<p>The next morning did not bring clarity. The sun rose high in the sky, and your mood sank with the weight of your circumstance. To make matters worse, Tom texted you before you even had the chance to open your eyes that he would be coming over that night since he had missed the last two weeks worth of papers.</p>
<p>The day passed in a blur of muttering to yourself and pacing the residence. Later that evening and after reorganizing the stack of papers on the coffee table for an embarrassing number of times, you waited for a knock on the door to indicate the arrival of the most confusing man you had ever met in your life. You feared it would be awkward. Would he expect you to have an answer already? Or would he act like nothing happened the night before?</p>
<p>The raps on the door interrupted your pondering. You sucked in a deep breath, preparing for the tension. But as you opened the door, the handsome man stood in front of you wearing a hoodie and jeans, and all your worries were discarded. Your mouth hung open at the sight, not accustomed to the casual wear adorning his figure. Tom chuckled at your gawking, smugly reveling in the effect he had on you.</p>
<p>“You like what you see?” he taunted.</p>
<p>You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your face. “Y-you look nice, Tommy.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear anything other than a suit … like ever.”</p>
<p>Waltzing into the room, he winked at you as he plopped down on the couch. “I have the day off so I thought I would dress comfortably for once.”</p>
<p>“If it’s your day off, why are you here working?” you inquired, nervous that he had come here only for answers and the papers were a guise to get into the house.</p>
<p>“I’m not working,” he said. “I’ve come for our movie night. I’ll just grab some papers on my way out.”</p>
<p>A smile of relief washed over your face.</p>
<p>Tom patted the space next to him on the sofa, inviting you to join him. Complying immediately, you took a seat next to him just like you usually sat when watching films back at the Parish. His arm automatically draped over the back of the couch like clock work. You felt brave today, and encouraged by what Tom had revealed the night before, you leaned into his body, snuggling into his side as he chose a movie. Once he had placed the remote down, his arm slid down from the back of the couch to rest across your shoulders. Bending your legs so they practically were laying in Tom’s lap, you settled into the cuddle, fighting back a face-splitting grin.</p>
<p>The sound of the movie echoed throughout the home, but you did not pay attention to a single thing on the television. Your mind was honed in on the fact that Tom’s arm wrapped you in a hug and your face was pressed against the side of his chest. His fingertips were ghosting over the skin of your arm, tracing invisible patterns as the scenes flashed on the screen in front of you. It was comforting, and it put you at ease knowing and trusting Tom to watch over you.</p>
<p>Unable to fight the sleepiness tugging on your eyelids much longer, your eyelashes fluttered across your cheeks as you drifted to sleep in Tom’s embrace.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Life of the Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this chapter takes place from Tom's POV</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The steady rise and fall of her chest let Tom know that Y/N had fallen asleep. He was absolutely smitten with the way her hair fell into her face, her mouth parting slightly as heavy breaths escaped those lips he longed to have pressed against his own. But Tom would have to wait for that. As long as it took.</p><p>Cautiously, once the film credits stopped rolling across the screen, Tom brushed the hair out of Y/N’s face and tucked it behind her ear. He let his hand linger against the side of her face, brushing the pads of his fingertips over the soft skin under his calloused hands.</p><p>His hands had been through hell. They had held guns, brandished knives, beaten grown men to a pulp. But Tom couldn’t help but think that as he caressed her sweet face in his hands that <em>this</em> was the most destructive thing he had ever done.</p><p>Tom was no stranger to the consequences of his affection. That night in the alleyway was enough proof of the dangerous position he was placing Y/N in each time he allowed a piece of himself to be captivated by her. It haunted his dreams almost every single night – the sound of her sobs, the fear in her eyes, how desperate she was for solace that she reached for him unabashedly in a moment of misplaced passion.</p><p>Tom gritted his teeth. He had yet to pinpoint the person or persons responsible for the attack. Though he had an inkling of who was behind the irreconcilable behavior of unreproved men, Tom could not act out on a whim. He would be starting a vindictive war with the Rocklands with no solid proof in hand, and there was no hope of rapprochement for those kindling an unprovoked strife in the life he lived.</p><p>What was he doing to her? Drawing Y/N in, leading her straight into the heart of corruption. It wasn’t right. Though his moral compass might be distorted, Tom knew, with every fiber of his being, that he should just let her go.</p><p>But Tom also knew, with every fiber in his being, that he needed Y/N, and he would be a damn fool to let someone as amazing as her go without putting up a fight. Even if it meant extra security around the mansion. Even if it meant a distraction in the back of his mind every time he found himself in a dangerous situation. Even if it meant rearranging his whole bloody life to have her in it. He would do it for Y/N, without question or hesitation. He would build a life worthy of her presence.</p><p>Tom might have been too far gone to go to heaven, but that would not stop him from bringing heaven to earth for her. Because nothing compared to her.</p><p>Not bags of money, not stacks of drugs, not cases of alcohol, not the adrenaline from loading a magazine into a gun, not even the approving nod from his father after successful assignments.</p><p>It all meant nothing if there wasn’t <em>her</em>.</p><p>As he thumbed across her cheek one last time, Tom sighed heavily. Y/N had given him no answer to the proposition burning in his mind since it left his tongue, and it was driving him mad. Perhaps he had not been clear enough. Maybe she did not fully understand the depth of his adoration towards her.</p><p>Tom sucked in his bottom lip, taking in the features of her face. She was an angel. And if his world was made of darkness, she was the stars in the night sky, adding beauty and purpose to wandering hearts and lost souls. She shined in everything she did, putting other celestial bodies to shame as she dazzled fiercely in darkness made to consume it all. Though the touch of the mob may have tainted her, branded her with a bad reputation, she still shined brightly to those around her.</p><p>The way Tom’s blunt words the night before had not scared her off marveled him. Who would have thought the little angel was wrapped around the devil’s dirty finger? Certainly not Tom. Sure he had a hunch of what she might feel towards him, but the fact that she had even entertained the idea at all lit a flame of hope inside Tom that would certainly not dwindle unless it was extinguished by outright rejection.</p><p>With one motion, Tom lifted Y/N into his arms and carefully carried the sleeping angel to her bedroom. He placed her under the covers, moving the blankets to cover her body. She stirred slightly, but quickly returned to blissful slumber as Tom soothingly rubbed circles on her back.</p><p>Once he was sure Y/N was asleep again, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He was gentle, not wanting to disturb her, though part of him wanted to wake her up just to see her pretty eyes once more before he left.</p><p>He sat on the bed, watching Y/N for a while, mesmerized by the idea of her figure falling asleep next to him every night.</p><p>“Pretty girl,” Tom whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me.”</p><p>She nuzzled further into the blankets, and he held his breath until she settled.</p><p>“You mean everything to me.”</p><p>He stroked her hair as he stood up to leave. He hadn’t even walked two steps before he turned back around to confess the secret he had been harbouring for far too long. “I’m in love with you, Y/N/N.”</p><p>Tom swiped his hands over his face. Exhaustion tugged on his temples in the form of a pounding headache, and he still had to drive home in the dark. Though thoroughly tempted to slide under the covers next to her, he refrained himself. She hadn’t given him permission and he would never forgive himself if he crossed a line even if she had already slept snuggled up against him once before.</p><p>So he turned around to leave, shutting the door to Y/N’s bedroom behind him.</p><p>Tom walked over to the coffee table in the living room, picking up the pile of papers he came to retrieve. He sighed. The pile was large, and it reminded him of every passing day that he wanted nothing more than to spend with her, but <em>this</em> or <em>that</em> had happened and before he knew it, she was standing in front of him in that goddamn dress in the middle of a meeting with a rough group of men.</p><p>The way they had stared at Y/N, looking her over like a piece of meat, made Tom’s stomach churn with a level of anger he didn’t know existed. Shaking his head, he willed himself to stop thinking about it. What good would it do to think about the what ifs?</p><p>What if he had told the truth? What if he had at least acknowledged he knew her? What if he introduced her as his girlfriend?</p><p>Tom understood that the outcome would’ve been much different and much less favorable. And as much as it hurt him to see Y/N all alone and distressed, he would do it all again if it meant he would protect her.</p><p>“You’re safe with me,” he whispered to himself before closing the door behind him and driving back to the Parish.</p><hr/><p>The next morning, a paper slid across his desk with a black ink signature scribbled across the bottom.</p><p>“What’s this?” Tom asked, not even bothering to remove his eyes from the deep brown cup of coffee fueling his energy.</p><p>“It’s the deal from those men you met with a couple nights ago,” Harrison stated curtly.</p><p>The two of them had not been on the best of terms since Y/N left. Civility was necessary as they crossed paths quite frequently being related and living and working together and all. But resentment was harbored on both sides. Fingers were pointed, blames were thrown about as soon as Tom came back from dropping her off at the house. As much as Tom wanted to let it go and move on, it was Y/N. And he could not let what Harrison did to her go lightly.</p><p>At least some good came out of the godforsaken night, Tom thought to himself as he glanced over the signed form.</p><p>“Leave it on my desk,” he ordered, bringing his mug to his lips for another sip.</p><p>Harrison complied, but lingered at the desk, waiting for Tom’s attention.</p><p>Tom pinched his eyes closed, begging the black magic in his cup to gift him patience as well. “What, Harrison?”</p><p>Shifting his weight, the blond man stuffed his hands in his pockets, a guilty expression on his face. “Uh. It’s just that Dom-” He gulped knowing that this would definitely not put him in Tom’s good graces, not that he stood a chance of that anyways. “-he wants the club opening to be this Friday night.”</p><p>“<em>This</em> Friday?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>He tilted his head, eyeing Harrison up and down. “And who gave him that idea?”</p><p>“Well-”</p><p>“You know I’m busy on Friday nights.” His tone was stern and his eyes were like daggers.</p><p>“I know but-”</p><p>“And you went behind my back?”</p><p>Harrison slumped. “Tom-”</p><p>“Forget it. Just get the fuck out,” Tom huffed.</p><p>The door closed behind Harrison with a soft thud. It was honestly one of the more cordial of their interactions in quite some time.</p><p>Fantastic, another Friday night without Y/N. He ran his fingers through his hair, cursing to himself at the prospect of letting her down – again. An idea crossed his mind, but Tom quickly dismissed it. She wouldn’t want to anyways, he told himself.</p><p>But then the memory of their first one on one conversation flashed in his mind. A cheeky smile played on Tom’s lips as he shuffled through the piles of paper to find his cell phone. He tapped away, pressing send when he was done typing out the message. Maybe the club opening wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.</p><hr/><p>The following days were quite busy. Preparations for the reopening of the club were time consuming and taxing, but every day, without fail, Tom found himself mindlessly staring at his phone with Y/N’s contact pulled up. Their conversations had been brief and infrequent as both of them encountered an onset of increased workloads since the announcement of the grand re-opening at the end of the week. But the image of one of their messages stayed burned into his mind since the moment it popped up on his screen.</p><p>Y/N had sent him a picture of herself in the new dress she purchased with the intention to wear it to the big event. When Tom opened the picture, he nearly dropped his phone at the sight. She was stunning to say the least, and it left his head reeling and his words fumbling out of his mouth as he tried to snap orders at his men working at the club. The thought of seeing her wearing that very outfit in person was all Tom needed to trudge through the rest of the draining tasks needed to be completed prior to Friday.</p><p>When the big night finally rolled around, Tom suited up in his best attire. He buttoned the black Armani suit, tied his freshly polished dress shoes, and fastened his glinting Rolex around his wrist.</p><p>Combing through his gelled locks, he ensured everything was set in place perfectly. After all, Tom was practically the face of the club re-opening, and he had a beautiful date to impress.</p><p>Tom stepped back from the mirror and licked his lips. As confident as he felt looking at the image looking back at him, he couldn’t help but compare it to a similar picture hanging in his father’s office.</p><p>There was no denying Tom resembled his young father quite closely, and the photograph gracing the wall of Dom’s office was evidence of that. The picture portrayed Dom standing next to his gorgeous wife, protective hand wrapped around her waist. They weren’t smiling, but Tom knew that they had never been happier. The couple looked powerful standing together, a king and queen ruling over their small kingdom, and Tom couldn’t help but feel the longing for someone to stand next to his side in that way.</p><p>He smoothed his jacket once more, resolving to finally confess the extent of his adoration towards Y/N tonight. Though Tom was confident about a lot of things, Y/N was the one aspect of his life that uncertainty crept in and overruled any sure thought he had ever possessed. He loved her. And perhaps that was the reason why he needed her answer straight away. Any more nights with unresolved feelings and Tom would surely lose his wits about him.</p><p>When Tom arrived at the club, he was greeted by firm hand shakes and claps on the back by fellow mob members. His eyes shined with pride at the hard work he and his crew mates, <em>his family</em>, had put in to make this night happen.</p><p>The place looked amazing. The bar was fully stocked, crowded with people waiting for their drinks. Out on the dance floor, bodies swayed to the beat of the music streaming from the new DJ set in the corner of the club. The back booths that lined the back of the club previously had been closed off from the rest of the room, leaving more privacy for business dealings, private events, and prominent guests.</p><p>Tom pushed past people, making his way to the bar. Sam and Harry sat on the stools at the end, chatting with Harrison who had a scotch ready and waiting for his cousin.</p><p>“Here,” Harrison said, offering Tom the drink. “You smashed it, mate.”</p><p>The sincere smile on his lips prompted Tom to return the expression, and the hardness in his heart softened as he accepted the alcoholic peace offering, downing it one gulp and roughly setting the empty glass down on the bar.</p><p>“No, <em>we</em> smashed it.”</p><p>Harrison extended his hand at Tom’s words, and the two shook and made up, simple as that. What was the sense in dragging it out any longer? What was done, was done. And frankly, Tom missed the support of his cousin, though his disdain for the way in which Harrison treated Y/N would not slip from his memory quite so soon.</p><p>Now that his relationship with Harrison was on the mend, Tom turned his attention to the crowd dancing wildly, blissfully unaware that the club they frequent had just been purchased by a powerful mob. He scanned the bodies for a familiar face – and dress. His eyes strained in the dark lighting, waiting for her.</p><p>His heart was pounding in his chest in anticipation. He was so nervous that he had to do a double take when he finally saw her.</p><p>Y/N was standing off to the side, dress clinging to her curves, nervous grin on her lips as she waved shyly at him. Tom released a large breath of air at the sight of her, and quickly made his way to her knowing she would not come over with Harrison next to him.</p><p>He slid his hands in his pocket, strolling over to her with purpose, his eyes trained on her face. His hands itched to grip her waist, vowing to never leave once they found home on the curve of her figure.</p><p>As he got closer, Tom could see the flustered way she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her hair, looking around the room anxiously before meeting his eyes again. His chin tilted higher and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. There was nothing he cherished more in this world than seeing Y/N – precious and completely unaware of her immense beauty – flustered, and he was reveling in being the reason behind it.</p><p>But as Tom approached her, he realised she had the exact same effect on him as all he could mutter was “wow” under his breath, completely at a loss for words as he beheld the sight before him.</p><p>She giggled, and crossed her arms over her chest. And as much as Tom wanted to pull her arms away to continue looking at her, he recognized the fact that he had been gawking at her from the moment he laid eyes on her form. Heat rose to his own face, but he dismissed it as the alcohol coursing through his system as he stumbled over his words.</p><p>“You look, I mean you always do, but wow. You look incredible, princess.”</p><p>“Thanks, Tommy.” Y/N sucked in her bottom lip, looking over his person before locking eyes with him. She tilted her head to the side and said, “You don’t look too bad yourself.”</p><p>“Would you like a drink or a dance first?”</p><p>She glanced back to the bar where Harrison sat with the twins before looking back at Tom. “Definitely the latter.”</p><p>Guiding her onto the dance floor, Tom twirled Y/N around, giggles falling from those painted lips, before he pulled her flush against his body with her back against his front. His hands rested firmly on her waist, guiding her hips to move with the music, his chest pressed against her back. Resting his head against hers, Tom inhaled her scent, the sweet aroma of her perfume gracing his nose. He smiled into her hair, and rubbed her hips with his thumbs.</p><p>After the end of the song, Tom dipped his head to whisper into her ear. “I should take you to the club more often, love.”</p><p>She chuckled and threw her head back to rest against Tom’s shoulder. “I didn’t think I would hear you say that after the last time we were in a club together.”</p><p>Her tone was playful, but Tom recognized the hurtful truth behind her joke, guilt soaking into his mind about that night once more. When he didn’t respond, Y/N turned around in his arms, running her hands from his shoulders down his chest to grasp onto the lapels of his suit jacket.</p><p>“Oh come on, Tommy. I was just kidding.”</p><p>Tom’s lips pulled into a tight line. She needed to know how sorry he truly was for making her feel abandoned despite his good intentions. Just as he opened his mouth to utter an apology, she placed a finger on his lips to stop him. “You’re too serious for your own good sometimes. Loosen up a bit.”</p><p>Y/N winked at him, and wandered off into the sea of bodies, leaving a dumbstruck Tom in her wake. He shook his head at himself. He was in way too deep with this girl, but at this point, he didn’t even care how whipped he was because she was worth every flirtatious comment, teasing gesture, and enticing expression she tossed aimlessly in his direction.</p><p>Following after her like a lost puppy, Tom made his way through the dance floor, bumping into sweaty people having the time of their lives. When he finally reached the other side of the crowd, he discovered her at the bar with two glasses of whiskey already in hand. Y/N smiled at him and gestured to the second glass.</p><p>“This for me, love?”</p><p>She nodded her head. “We don’t get to drink whiskey from your fancy bar cart anymore.”</p><p>Tom raised the glass to his lips, taking a sip of the taste of his favorite drink, a flavor he has come to associate with the woman in front of him. It’s bitter and strong but with hints of vanilla, bringing him back to his previous Friday nights with her in his office. As he looked at her now, Tom reminisced on the days where they were not well acquainted, tip-toeing around each other until the comfort of one another’s presence became like a sense of home.</p><p>“Yeah,” he sighed. “I miss that.”</p><p>“Me too.” She glanced somberly at her drink.</p><p>“Miss it enough to come back?” Tom dared to ask.</p><p>Y/N cast him a look. A look that read ‘you know exactly why I can’t do that,’ but it didn’t stop the sting in his heart at the reminder of the reason she moved out of the Holland-Osterfield Parish in the first place.</p><p>Tom took another sip of his drink. “I know, I know.”</p><p>The pair got lost in conversation, and once their drinks were empty, Y/N dragged Tom back to the dance floor. Her dance moves loosened up and her hips swayed carelessly to the beat of the music pumping through the speakers. After a while, Tom stopped dancing, his entire attention lost in her. She turned around to face him, a sweet but enticing smile on her lips. Her hands travelled up and down his chest, making it difficult for Tom to think of anything else as he subconsciously tightened his hold on her hips.</p><p>The music seemed to fade as his focus honed in on Y/N and Y/N alone. Her eyes sparkled in the iridescent light and her lips painted pink drew him in against – no, <em>according</em> – to his will. As Tom thumbed across her cheek, his eyes flickered to the curve of her mouth and back to her eyes. His mind was spinning so fast he couldn’t even stop himself from leaning in. His lips brushed against the corner of her mouth, a small gasp leaving Y/N’s parted lips as he placed his kiss haphazardly.</p><p>Tom cursed at himself inwardly, but let his lips linger on the corner of her mouth for a few moments, waiting for her to correct him, to smash her lips into his, to finally let him demonstrate the full extent of his affection.</p><p>Instead, Tom felt her tense, and he immediately pulled away with a quizzical brow to read her expression. Her eyes were not even on him, they were on something or someone behind him. Spinning around, Tom came face to face with a seething Harrison. His glass clutched in his hand was the only thing stopping his hands from forming into fists. Harrison’s brows furrowed, and his usually bright eyes were wounded and dark with fury.</p><p>“Haz-” Tom started, but was quickly cut off by the loud smash of Harrison’s glass crashing against the floor of the club. The shards mixed with liquor scattered everywhere, and the music quieted as the crowd backed away from the scene unfolding before them.</p><p>Harrison said nothing as his chest heaved, his fists clenching and unclenching as if deciding whether or not he wanted to test his luck and throw the first punch at his second in command. His eyes only flickered to Y/N once his breathing started to steady and calm down. They were full of betrayal and confusion as he folded his arms across his chest.</p><p>The crowd whispered amongst themselves, wondering what in the world was going on, but too afraid to step in and break up the imminent fight.</p><p>When he finally spoke, Harrison’s face contorted into a crazed grin as he stared at Tom. “You know what? You can have my sloppy seconds.” He threw his hands up in the air in surrender. He glanced back at Y/N, giving her a condemning once over before adding, “She doesn’t put out anyways.”</p><p>The crowd “ooh”-ed at his statement, and he turned to walk away.</p><p>All Tom could see was red as he lunged for Harrison’s arm, jerking him around to look him in the eye.</p><p>“Tom, don’t-” Y/N cried, but it was too late.</p><p>Tom’s fist connected his Harrison’s face, and the blond was sent straight to the floor with a thud and an aching jaw. It was only then that the other crew members present stepped in, pulling Tom away from Harrison and to the back room for some privacy.</p><p>As the men dragged him away, Tom caught a glimpse at Y/N extending her hand towards Harrison only for it to be swatted away as he stumbled to his feet and back to the bar. Tom’s rage thundered in his chest as his tense muscles pulled against the will of those holding him back, the flare to fight triggered all over again.</p><p>Almost as soon as the rest of the club was out of sight, Tom’s breaths became more even as he closed his eyes, focusing on anything but the provoking words Harrison uttered. He was quite unceremoniously forced to sit in one of the booths, and the shame of his brash decision seeped in as he mused over what just happened, wiping his hands over his face.</p><p>“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>What would his father have to say about this? Surely his actions would not fare well for the business. Never mind the fact that there was yet another instance of insubordination within Dom’s own mob.</p><p>Thankfully, the men knew better than to stick around, and seeing Tom calm already allowed them to leave him alone in good conscience.</p><p>Tom didn’t need to look up to know the source of the sound of heels clicking against the tile flooring over to the booth not long after the men cleared out. One of her hands rested on his shoulder, the other smoothing circles over his back. There were no words spoken between them, but Tom already felt more at peace as he released a heavy sigh and finally met her eyes.</p><p>They were filled with concern and shimmered with conflict. Harrison’s words cut like knives to Tom, and he was not even the subject of them. He couldn’t imagine how she felt until a single tear trickled down Y/N’s face.</p><p>Tensing up, Tom placed his hand over hers resting on his shoulder gingerly, thumbing over the smooth skin. “Come on, love. Let’s get you home.”</p><p>And there was that word again – home. A place that should be with him if it wasn’t for Harrison. Tom’s jaw clenched as he convinced himself that Harrison had truly deserved that punch after all of his negligent and hurtful actions. His foot tapped against the floor as his anger swelled again, their previous handshake a long forgotten promise of repair.</p><p>This was all Harrison’s fault. He fucked up and now what? He had no right to be angry about a better man taking his place.</p><p>Tom shook his head as he grabbed Y/N’s hand and guided her out the back of the club and to his car. His temper was still boiling as he silently drove her back to the house.</p><p>Harrison had ruined so much – his chances with Y/N, the peace in their home, his plan to confess his true feelings.</p><p>The grip Tom had on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he stewed in the horrendous way the night unfolded.</p><p>Just once could he get what he wanted?</p><p>Tom recognized he sounded all too much like a toddler not getting his way. But it was Y/N – the thing he wanted most – and he’d be damned if he didn’t get what he wanted when it was so close within reach.</p><p>As he placed the car in park at the end of the driveway behind a stationary SUV, Tom finally looked over to Y/N. She was already staring back, her eyes swimming with concern and her brows furrowed. Tom took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it, resolving to leave the confession for yet another day. His lips lingered on her skin, warm and soft. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers again, she squeezed his hand and gave him a sad smile before exiting the vehicle.</p><p>As soon as the door closed, Tom released a heavy sigh and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. His anger doubled back, and Tom, too caught up in his own emotions, sped off without so much as a glance back.</p><p>What Tom didn’t see in his rearview mirror was a man sprinting out of the parked SUV towards Y/N who was walking up the driveway, wrapping a firm hand over her mouth, and dragging her into the vehicle whilst she kicked and screamed for her Tommy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Stitches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh you’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?”</p><p>The hand that covered your mouth reeked of cigarette smoke and the metallic spark of fireworks though you were almost certain it had not been fireworks that caused his hand to smell that way.</p><p>Your suspicions were confirmed when the warm barrel of a gun pressed firmly against your temple as he dragged you to the vehicle parked outside the house. Igniting a flame of resistance inside of you, the presence of the weapon did not thwart your attempts to scream for help and escape his hold as you thrashed around as much as you could while your yelling remained muffled under the suppression of your captor.</p><p>Despite the depleting efforts, the burly man remained much too strong for you to make any headway as he managed to drag you all the way to the vehicle in a matter of seconds. It was far too late in the night in the quiet neighborhood for anyone to witness your affliction, your only hope driving off into the night, fury weighing heavy on his heart. You were on your own.</p><p>In a final attempt at liberation, you placed your foot on the outside of the car when he tried to shove you into it. He pushed, and you pushed back with all the strength you could muster.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, get in the bloody car,” he growled through gritted teeth.</p><p>Twisting your body and holstering his gun, the man was able to get a better grip on you, propelling you into the car with a renewed force. Your locked leg bent under the intense pressure, and you were sent flying forward into the top of the door frame.</p><p>With a crack, your head spun wildly, the faint feeling of blood trickling down the side of your face as you found yourself stunned against the back leather seats. Your strength left with the wind from your lungs as you laid motionless, the pulsing pain from the impact of your face as it made contact with the metal frame of the vehicle leaving you disoriented and dizzy.</p><p>The door slammed closed behind you, the grumbling of your captor heard as he slid into the passenger seat of the vehicle. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”</p><p>All you could think about was Tom. He had to have seen. He had to be on his way to your aid. But there was absolutely no indication of that happening as the car slowly pulled onto the road.</p><p>You inhaled sharply, straining to sit up in order to peer through the blacked out window.</p><p>It was like you snapped out of a dream, reality of what was happening finally sinking in, your insides turning cold as ice. You immediately lunged towards the window and pounded your fists against the cool glass, screaming Tom’s name at the top of your lungs. There were salty tears already streaming down your face as your voice cracked from how desperately you called out for the only person that might come to your rescue. You watched –- completely in shock –- as his car disappeared down the London street with no indication of turning around.</p><p>When you had screamed and cried all you could, you slumped into the seat, curling into a defeated ball. Tom had not turned the car around. He had not heard your cries nor seen you taken. The pain from your head returned, the gut-wrenching facts of your circumstances prompting your stomach to turn with nauseousness and your mind with panic.</p><p>You laid in the back seat, paralyzed, for the rest of the drive.</p><p>Each minute that passed felt like an agonizing hour. An hour of uncertainty, an hour of imminent danger, an hour of racing pulse. You had no strength or will to ask where they were taking you or who they were or what they wanted.</p><p>You should have seen this coming. Things were starting to fall into place all too smoothly, but then <em>this night</em>. Your roller coaster of emotions were relentlessly pulling you in all different directions. Tom was so sweet, so protective, but so <em>angry</em>. Harrison had every right to be infuriated by the sight he caught unfolding behind his back. But Tom … he let his rage overpower any rational thought in his head as he lashed out at his own flesh and blood.</p><p>And then fear. Wielding a tight hold on your heart, it refrained you from speaking your truth to Tom – that you wanted nothing more than to move back to the safety and comfort of the Parish, to start afresh and see where things went from there. If you didn’t make it out of this situation alive, he would never know how you truly felt. And that thought alone was enough to leave you crumbled in despair.</p><p>The car jerked to a sudden stop after a while, both men piling out. The door opened and the disgusting hand returned and only removed itself from your mouth once your wrists were roughly bound behind your back by a piece of duct tape.</p><p>Gravel crunched under your feet as you were unceremoniously escorted into a secluded warehouse. There were no houses around –- just buildings and the faint scent and sound of a rushing river nearby.</p><p>It was damp and sticky in the room, the air suffocatingly thick with smoke drifting from the ends of lit cigarettes from brawny men. They all wore red, and you couldn’t help but notice how one of their faces looked chillingly familiar.</p><p>You were forced to sit in a metal chair, and you shivered automatically from the contact of the cold surface against your bare legs. While your eyesight was blurred from your tears and you were weak from slamming your fists against the car window, you were still conscious enough of the situation to know that this would likely not fare well for you.</p><p>When a man stepped towards you, the others seemed to shift their stance, hands placed behind their backs like an army ready to fight for their king. He finally walked all the way into the light shining above, and a sinister grin spread across his face, exposing brown teeth and a freshly lit cigarette dangling from his chapped lips. The feeling that overcame you was nothing short of bone-chilling.</p><p>He stood proud, towering over you like a sinister judge to a wilting prisoner awaiting their sentence with trepidation. When he spoke, his voice boomed off the walls. “Did you receive my roses?” One of his men pulled up a chair for him to sit down across from you, and he sat, leaning towards you with an elbow resting against his thigh. “I even left my initial on the card so you would know who it was from. You didn’t mistake me for someone else did you?”</p><p>Your eyes widened, and it only amused him more as the sneer on his face grew even wider.</p><p>“The name’s Tarren. Tarren Rockland. Though I’m sure you already know that.”</p><p>He chuckled darkly as he watched you squirm in the chair anxiously, tugging against the tape. You <em>didn’t</em> know who he was save for the faint familiarity of the name Rockland. But your gut told you not to bring that fact to light.</p><p>“There’s no need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Tarren said with a strong waft of smoke punctuating each word as he took a long drag of the cigarette. “You give me what I want, I won’t hurt you … much.”</p><p>“What do you want?” you asked hoarsely, your throat suddenly dry.</p><p>His eyes travelled across your figure to the floor, and he fixated on a small puddle of water in between you as he spoke.</p><p>“Well, I want a lot of things, darling,” he snickered. “You see, the Hollands and Osterfields have not been very kind to me lately.”</p><p>You inhaled sharply. What had they gotten you into?</p><p>“They seem to think they can take whatever they bloody please without any consequence.” The man leaned back in his chair, tilting his head at you before pointing the stick in between his fingers at you.</p><p>“And <em>you</em>.” It cut through the air like a knife. And you held your breath as if you’d forgotten how to breathe. “You can’t seem to stay away from them. Even after a little run-in with my men in downtown London.”</p><p>Your eyes darted across the room to the familiar face. The face of your nightmares. Your heart felt like it jumped into your throat, the tight feeling of fear gripping you all over again.</p><p>Tarren tossed the butt of the cigarette on the ground, crunching the tobacco under his foot menacingly, like a warning. When his eyes turned back to you, their dark nature reminded you of someone else’s eyes and you suddenly realised how soft Tom’s eyes were in comparison though just as rich in colour. He held life in his eyes, but Tarren… Tarren only possessed darkness, and it was evident in the way every feature of his face radiated the same sinister air his words created. “Perhaps I can use you to my advantage.”</p><p>He battered you with questions about a shipment date, locations of different properties, timelines, but you knew nothing. And every time you told him so, you received a hit to the back of your head from what you assumed was the grip of a gun. The pronounced throb beneath your skull was too pronounced to think straight anymore as he begrudgingly began to accept that fact.</p><p>“I’ve seen you running around with Tommy boy. You can’t tell me you know nothing when that son of a bitch has you constantly tucked under his arm like a plaything.” Tarren abruptly stood from his seat and circled your chair. “Either you know something or you’re one hell of a lay.”</p><p>He snickered to himself, an amused smirk taking over his lips. “Or perhaps Tommy boy has gone soft on us, yeah?”</p><p>The mean leaned down into your face, his hot, foul breath blowing straight into your face. You had to close your eyes and hold your breath to keep from hurling on the spot. “Maybe Thomas is capable of loving something other than money and cheap shags after all, princess.”</p><p><em>Princess</em>. The word sounded vulgar spat out of his filthy mouth, tasted like bile, and you consciously replayed the sound of Tom uttering the pet name over and over again to keep you from opening your mouth in hasty retaliation.</p><p>“Soft. Just like his father,” he sneered.</p><p>You kept your facial expression as stoic as you could manage. The more you revealed, the more danger you would be in, that much was clear. It would be in your best interest to stay silent and allow him to draw speculations out of his ass until he had amused himself enough. So what if he thought you were paid fun? You were determined to make it out of this situation alive no matter what the cost.</p><p>A strong hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes to look at Tarren once more. “Fine, don’t speak. But you’ll regret this.”</p><p>When he released his grip, your head hung in defeat. You dreaded what he had in store for you, but you couldn’t fight back. There were too many of them and no way out of the restraints binding your wrists.</p><p>Tarren sighed, the stiff air of satisfaction circulating around him as a threatening grin tugged at his mouth. Walking to stand directly in front of you, Tarren placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your weary head to look at him. “What a shame. You have such a pretty face too.”</p><p>The men around you started to shuffle impatiently, awaiting a command from their leader.</p><p>“I’ll make a spectacle out of you, my dear. They’ll know not to walk into my club, shoot my right hand man at point blank, and encroach on my territory again. You’ll make sure they get that message from me, won’t you?”</p><p>And suddenly it all made sense now, the pieces to the puzzle falling into place – the man Tom shot in your previous flat was a Rockland, the guys in the alleyway belonged to his mob, the roses on the doorstep were a warning, the interrogation about information you knew nothing about was all a scheme of vengeance.</p><p>All of this trouble boiled down to a rivalry between the two mobs. And here you were trapped in the middle of it like a pawn. Was this really the life you wanted to sign up for? The answer was now clear as day and the only sure thought in your head as you sat strapped against your will to a chair awaiting the hand fate dealt to you.</p><p>Your heart hammered inside your chest, but you were just grateful this had not become a vindictive murder. He planned on keeping you alive enough to relay a message, and that was the only sliver of hope you had to cling to.</p><p>Tarren spun around to walk out of the room, unrolling the sleeves of his red dress shirt and buttoning the cuffs. He waved his hand dismissively without taking a last glance at you before commanding his men, “Make it look rough. She clearly didn’t learn her lesson the first time.”</p><p>A punch was thrown, and before you could process anything, you were back in an SUV, the rocking vehicle jumbling your sore body as it transported you to a new location.</p><p>With the car placed in park, you were unceremoniously dragged from the back seat, in no condition to walk. You were pushed onto the doorstep, curling into a ball as you grimaced from the impact. The man knocked on the door before scrambling back to the vehicle and driving off to god knows wherever you had just come from.</p><p>He had shot the gate guard on the way in, that much you were sure of. Why was no one else around to stop him? There was no resistance, no alarms.</p><p>The soft light of the day cast rays against your form, the only indication of what time it was. You weren’t even sure what day it was or how much time elapsed from the first moment you were dragged against your will into the blacked out SUV. All you knew for certain was how much pain you were in.</p><p>Light footsteps tread on the other side of the door. All you were able to do was groan at the immense surge of soreness with each breath, praying that someone would find you soon. Your eyelashes fluttered across your cheek as you closed your eyes. It was all too much. Time crawled by as you lay motionless on the front steps of the residence you used to call home.</p><p>Finally, those footsteps approached the door, swinging it wide. There was a moment of hesitation before a gasp and a shrill scream passed from Olivia’s mouth.</p><p>“Y/N?!”</p><p>It was all a blur – the voices, the memories. It was all coming back in an overwhelming flood, fading in and out in a cloudy haze as you teetered on the edge of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation here and there.</p><hr/><p>“Oh my god.” Olivia backed away from the door, her shaky hand covering her mouth. “Oh my god no.”</p><hr/><p>Another set of footsteps ran over. Harrison. “Tom! Get the fuck down here!” He bent down beside you, peeling one of your eyelids open to get you to retain focus, but your eyes just rolled into the back of your head.</p><p>“Fuck,” he breathed heavily. “I’ll go get him.”</p><hr/><p>It was Tom’s voice that cried, “No, no, no. Y/N!” with desperation coating each word of disbelief as he flew down the flight of stairs, Harrison trailing along behind him.</p><hr/><p>“She knows too much, son,” a stern voice uttered just before the sound of a gun cocking.</p><p>There was a scuffle.</p><p>“Don’t you touch her,” Tom snarled through gritted teeth.</p><hr/><p>“Secure the perimeter!” Tom barked, the strain in his voice pertinent in each word. “No one gets in or out until we find the son of a bitch that did this.”</p><hr/><p>The sound of a shattered vase pierced the stale air. “It has to be the bloody Rocklands. I fucking told you, Dom, they weren’t going to let the club purchase slide.”</p><p>“Tom-”</p><p>“I swear to fucking god they better pay for this,” he seethed.</p><hr/><p>When you opened your eyes, you were back in your previous room at the Holland-Osterfield Parish. It was late in the day as the sun peeked through the curtains brightly. Your throbbing head distorted your vision, though it dissipated a little after Olivia shoved a glass of water and a painkiller into your hands.</p><p>“Take this,” Liv whispered, brushing the hair out of your face as she assisted you in sitting up to swallow the pill.</p><p>“Thanks,” you replied hoarsely, still trying to orient yourself.</p><p>She pressed the cup of water to your lips again, urging you to take another sip. Sitting up fully, you chugged the rest, finally finding relief for the desert-dry parchedness in your throat. She took the cup away from you once you were finished, placing it on the nightstand.</p><p>Glancing down, you realised you had been changed out of your dress and were now wearing a pair of Olivia’s sweatpants and one of Harrison’s t-shirts. You really must have been knocked out, you thought to yourself.</p><p>When you drew your hand to your face to touch the source of the pain in your head, you winced. There was a knot on your forehead by your hairline from where you smashed into the car, the cut bandaged with one of those strips used instead of stitches. You worried that you would need actual stitches, but that trouble quickly subsided to be replaced by another, more pertinent concern of the person who you expected to be in the room waiting for you to wake up.</p><p>“Where’s Tom?” you croaked.</p><p>Olivia smiled sadly, tucking a strand of your hair out of your face.</p><p>“Lost his goddamn mind,” a deep, familiar voice stated curtly from the doorway.</p><p>Olivia stepped aside, letting you see Harrison who was leaning against the door frame in a t-shirt and sweats. “He left as soon as you were brought up here last night.”</p><p>Harrison strolled over to the side of your bed, towering over you as he examined your face. Olivia quietly excused herself to fetch you some more water, leaving the two of you alone. Placing his index finger under your chin, Harrison moved your head gently from side to side to assess the damage. He hummed disapprovingly as he let go of your chin.</p><p>“Bastards,” he muttered through clenched teeth.</p><p>“Bet I still look better than you though,” you teased, noticing his split lip, bruising jaw, and the dark, heavy bags under his eyes.</p><p>He snickered, shaking his head at you. “You always do, darling.”</p><p>You patted the space next to you lightly, and Harrison obliged, sitting down on the mattress beside you. Now was as good a time as any to clear the air.</p><p>“Listen,” he began, clearing his throat and staring at the frayed end of the blanket cuddled up to your chin. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did in the club. I was just not expecting <em>that</em> quite so soon.” He voice trailed off at the end, and it felt like another blow to your already sore body.</p><p>You inhaled sharply. “Haz-”</p><p>“No, no. I just need some time, but-” he looked up to meet your eyes, those piercing blue orbs swirling with emotion “-I really do want you to be happy, you know? And I think part of me knew that I wasn’t ready to be the person you needed me to be back when we were dating.”</p><p>Harrison chuckled sadly, his warm hand reaching up to stroke your cheek lightly with his knuckles. “My anger just flares when I think about what happened, and I want to be a better person. You make me want to be a better person. And for that, I am forever grateful.”</p><p>“Haz,” you sniffled. “You’re going to make me cry.”</p><p>You both laughed when a single tear slid down your face, Harrison swiftly wiping it away with his thumb. There was a moment when his hand rested on your skin where you thought about what it would have been like had he not started using again and pushed you away.</p><p>You could see a similar thought churning in his head as well, his eyes flitting between the curve of your mouth and your eyes. Breath hitching in your throat when he started to lean in, you feared having to reject him, inflicting a fresh wound to the already festering sore. But Harrison stopped himself before he got too close, redirecting his lips to press gingerly against your forehead.</p><p>You sighed as he pulled away, hand covering his still resting on the side of your face. You gave it a squeeze, a silent thank you, a silent reconciliation of friendship, and a silent understanding of one another rolled into one small gesture.</p><p>“I’m just,” he sighed. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”</p><p>“I know. Me too.” Harrison removed his hand from your face, picking up your hand in his, turning the purpling skin over in his hand. “Well, save for some bruises and sore muscles.”</p><p>Your knuckles and the sides of your hands were dark purple and blue from pounding relentlessly against the windows of the vehicle. As Harrison carefully examined them, his lips pulled taut. “What did they want? This obviously was supposed to send us a message of sorts.”</p><p>You swallowed hard, the words of the rival mobster resounding hazily in your aching skull. “The guy … he said something about territory and killing his right hand man. I think that’s who Tom shot in mine and Olivia’s flat. Wasn’t his name Rockland?”</p><p>Bringing a finger to rest on his lips pensively, Harrison mulled over your recounting of last night. His brows furrowed as he hummed to himself. “That was Jared Rockland in your flat, yes,” Harrison confirmed. “I don’t mean this any way other than pure surprise, but, um, do you know why he let you live?”</p><p>You felt your heart flip in your chest. The thought that you were a dead woman at the beginning of last night’s events loomed over you like a storm cloud threatening rain. It was not until Tarren started throwing out random accusations about your relationship with the families did you realise he did not know the extent of your involvement with the Holland and Osterfield mob. His lack of information was the only thing that saved your life.</p><p>“He didn’t know who I was,” you whispered, suddenly aware of how close you were to losing the breath in your lungs merely hours ago. “He just thought I worked for the mob,” you partially lied.</p><p>Harrison nodded his head understandingly. “I see.” Gnawing on his bottom lip, he fixed his eyes on yours. “And what did he want from us?”</p><p>“Information.” You shrugged a little, shaking your head as you tried to recall what exactly he interrogated you about. But the bottom line was clear as day. “Revenge.”</p><p>“Fuck.” Harrison swiped his hands across his weary features. “At least Tom didn’t go alone.”</p><p>The door knob turned, and Olivia walked back in holding a full glass of water. You were thankful she walked in when she did, not wanting to discuss the man that inflicted the discolored bruise to Harrison’s jaw so soon after last night. When Liv walked over, he stood, giving her the space on the bed to sit down. His socked feet padded over towards the doorway.</p><p>“If you’re feeling better later, I can drive you to the house to pick up your things.” He paused, about to walk out of the door, but turned around with an inquisitive brow. “You are moving back, right?”</p><p>You gave him a small smile, nodding your head. “If you’ll have me.”</p><p>“Of course, Y/N,” Harrison replied, returning the expression.</p><p>As he was about to turn around again, you cried, “Wait!”</p><p>You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, wanting to ask more, but definitely not wanting to hurt Harrison’s feelings. But you had to know.</p><p>You had made your decision. Really, your mind was already made up as you unwillingly sat strapped to a chair in a frigid, damp room, held against your will. The only coherent thought you were able to string together was that you loved Tom, and every bit of this fucked up lifestyle was worth the chance to be with him. You had to know if he was going to be okay.</p><p>Thankfully, Harrison seemed to understand what you desired to ask, but were politely refraining as he informed you, “Tom should be back any second now.”</p><p>With a tap on the doorframe, he shuffled off down the hall.</p><p>As soon as Harrison left the room, shutting the door behind him, Olivia squealed in excitement, wrapping her arms around your neck as best as she could manage given your state. “You’re moving back!”</p><p>You still winced when she placed a bit too much pressure on your ribcage, the bones sensitive to the touch. Liv pulled away with frightened eyes when she heard you hiss in pain.</p><p>“Oh my god. I’m so sorry! I almost forgot,” Olivia said, covering her mouth with her hand. “What … what did they do to you?”</p><p>You glanced down at your discoloured hands which fiddled with each other.</p><p>“They, um,” you cleared your throat as a knot started to form in the back of it, threatening to choke off your words. “I don’t really remember. The boss told them to ‘make it look rough,’” you quoted bleakly.</p><p>“Get some rest, okay?” she pleaded upon seeing the distress in your eyes. Sliding into the bed next to you, Olivia hugged you close. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”</p><p>The remainder of the day passed slowly. You were anxiously awaiting for any news of the crew that left to fight the Rocklands, but there was nothing. Nothing but silence. The Parish was filled with that very thing as well, any person left behind in the estate teetering on the edge of madness with the ever growing lack of information.</p><p>Did they storm their headquarters? Did they even make it past the gates? Were the Rocklands waiting for them or was it a surprise attack? There were more unknowns than anything else, and the weight of the circumstances could be felt in everyone’s silence.</p><p>Almost everyone was gone. Everyone from Dom to Harry and Sam to the crewmates that stand guard over the warehouse in the back of the property. You couldn’t help but feel responsible for this happening. You were the one that drove this family to have to fight back.</p><p>The sound of the scuffle between father and son last night rang in your head. Dom pointed his gun at you, that much you were certain. Everything else was a haze. You overheard Tom threatening his own father as they argued over why you should be allowed to live. You were a liability, and you truly did know too much information for someone who had not officially pledged loyalty to the Holland-Osterfield families. How you were still alive, you truly did not know. Between both heads of the mob, you were nothing but an obstacle, a pawn, and a nuisance.</p><p>The sun was dipping behind the horizon, allowing darkness to fill the London sky when you saw Harrison again. He knocked softly on your door before cracking it open. Olivia was snoring softly beside you, too overwhelmed by the situation to even stay awake.</p><p>He whispered from the door, “Do you want to go grab your things now?”</p><p>“Yeah,” you whispered back. “I’ll leave Liv a note.”</p><p>You quickly scribbled an explanation of your absence on a scrap piece of paper, placing it on your pillow next to Olivia’s face for her to find if she woke up anytime soon.</p><p>As you started to move around, your muscles strained and ached, but you could get around fairly well. And besides, you couldn’t stand being inside the eerie mansion for much longer. You were willing to experience an extra dose of soreness to escape the suspense.</p><p>Following Harrison down the marble staircase, you made your way outside to his car. The drive was silent at first, nothing but soft music from the radio playing in the background. You knew both of your minds were somewhere else, full of worry about those who had yet to return. You were about to turn down the street where the quaint house stood when Harrison finally spoke.</p><p>“He’s in love with you, you know?”</p><p>Your eyes went wide, and you stared back blankly, unsure of what to say to his sudden statement. You were still just grateful that his bitterness was as short-fused as his temper, and a consequential claim like that was the last thing you expected him to utter. Harrison regripped the wheel, clearing his throat as his eyes retained focus on the streets in front of him.</p><p>“I’ve never seen him like that before.” He chuckled darkly, eyes flitting over to you for a split second. “The fire in his eyes when he walked out the door last night — that’s how I knew. What he feels for you is real.”</p><p>Harrison placed the car in park upon pulling into the driveway, turning to look at you for a final remark. “Just … don’t forget that. Tom might have a thick skull and think a bit irrationally at times, but he’s got an otherworldly attachment to you. He’s loyal to a fault.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know what you feel towards him, and you don’t have to tell me. But just know that if you choose to stay, you need to be here to stay. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him lose his shit as quickly when it comes to you. He’s usually got a level head about him.”</p><p>The both of you laughed, but a serious look came over his face as the chuckles died out. You scanned those kind eyes full of concern for his cousin despite the contempt held between them. Of course you knew that Tom had feelings for you – that much you gathered from the night after surprising him at the club. But what Harrison was telling you held far much more consequence. You loved him, but Tom loved you back?</p><p>You had an inkling of what was going on between the family and the Rocklands. Guilt already shackled your heart, but now Harrison was confirming your suspicions. It was you he was fighting for. It was you he was protecting. It was you he was avenging. Tom risked his life and the lives of those around him on a whim for you. They had not even known about the Rocklands plans before they left the mansion, caught up in the whirlwind of vindication.</p><p>With a small smile, Harrison stepped out of the car, trailing behind you to the door. You unlocked the door and walked inside, your mind running circles around the brand new reminder about the ramifications of this lifestyle and how dangerous it all was.</p><p>When you were through the door, you were immediately greeted with a sense of intrusion. This was not your home. It was never your home. And frankly, you were glad to be leaving the small residence full of loneliness and old memories to be replaced by new, happier memories in the Holland-Osterfield Parish. Despite the life of vice, it was the life you wanted to commit to.</p><p>Upon walking to your bedroom, Harrison pulled your suitcase out from under the bed. “I’ll let you pack. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be waiting in the car, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah,” you nodded. “Thanks, Haz.”</p><p>He gave you a slight nod, strolling back out the front door to leave you alone. You sighed heavily. Though it was never home, this place still held memories, and sorrow filled your heart at the prospect of abandoning it like the family had before you.</p><p>You packed unhurriedly, taking your time so as to not overwork yourself. Once done, you zipped your suitcase, leaving it on the bed for Harrison to grab.</p><p>Deciding to take one last walk through the house, you strolled down the halls. You took a mental picture of the photographs on the wall and the outdated decorations. You smiled to yourself as your fingertips grazed the countertops in the kitchen, taking in as much as you could before saying goodbye.</p><p>Just as you walked past the back door, there was a bang. You screamed, hands flying to cover your mouth as you looked out the glass half of the door. It was Tom. Though darkness overtook the night sky, you could see blood stains on the collar of his shirt and a gash above his eyebrow. You flew to the door, swinging it open with ease.</p><p>“Tom,” you breathed as he staggered into the kitchen. “Tom what the hell are you doing here? What happened to you?”</p><p>His hand gripped the counter as he doubled over, a fresh red stain in the form of his handprint seeping into the countertops. “You weren’t at the Parish. I had to make sure you were okay,” he practically wheezed. “It’s just broken ribs. I’m fine, princess.”</p><p>“But the blood-”</p><p>“It’s not mine.”</p><p>He did not look in the least bit fine. Panic and a grimace marred his features as he frantically glanced around the room. He whispered almost so quietly you could barely hear him. “Tarren Rockland got away and said he would find you. We need to get out of here. It’s not up for debate anymore.”</p><p>Maybe this was not the time for sentiment, but you could hardly refrain yourself from withholding your decision any longer. If he did love you back, which you were hoping with all your heart he did, Tom deserved to know that you were going on your own accord, your own incentive. “Tommy, I <em>want</em> to move back.”</p><p>He seemed to stand a little taller, his dark eyes lighting up with a glimmer of hope. “You do?”</p><p>His voice was an octave higher than normal, and you drew your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a grin. You nodded fervently, your smile growing wider when Tom released his grip on the counter to walk towards you. But Tom stumbled a bit, backing away and grasping onto the counter for renewed support. He winced as his chest heaved, each breath labored from the pain in his ribs. “Let’s go home. The car in the driveway – that’s ours, right? I wasn’t certain so I came in the ba-”</p><p>Then his eyes widened. He reached his hand out towards you, but you were yanked back by a hand fastened on your arm before he could even brush his fingertips against yours. Your back made contact with something hard, and a cool metal blade pushed your head flush against the body of an all too familiar man.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. If I Can't Have You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tom bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he growled, “Tarren, let her <em>fucking</em> go.”</p><p>He tried to stand up straighter, but faltered, hand still gripped tight on the kitchen counter. His knuckles were turning white from his intense grip as his temper flared.</p><p>Tarren sneered at the sight, his chest rumbling with frigid laughter, pushing your neck farther and farther into the blade with his movements. It hurt, but it had yet to break the skin. Your hands grabbed tightly onto the other arm holding you firmly against his chest, trying your best to pry it away from you, though from your previous encounter you knew your efforts were fruitless.</p><p>“Do you really think I’m going to let you get away with what you did?” The sound of boisterous laughter rang in the air, and you pinched your eyes shut to control your breathing. If you stayed calm enough, the blade should not cut too deep. But Tarren was working Tom up, and you had a feeling Tom would take the bait and make a rash decision if you appeared to be in extreme danger or pain with the way his murderous glare cut into Tarren’s face.</p><p>“If I can’t have you, I’ll take your girl. That’s how it works in this world. Didn’t your father teach you anything?”</p><p>The air was thick, stuffy, <em>suffocating</em> between the tension between them and the fear coursing through your veins. With each draw of breath, you felt the knife imbed further into your skin despite your feeble attempt to breathe steadily. You gulped hard when you felt a trickle of warmth slide down the column of your throat as Tarren’s hold constricted with his rising irritation, and Tom’s scowl pierced even harder.</p><p>“It seems as though you have a lot to learn before you take over the ole family business, eh?” Tarren taunted. “Maybe you should start by keeping your next girl a bit closer to home. Isn’t that right, princess?”</p><p>His breath was hot in your ear, and you squirmed against his hold despite the knife digging into your flesh more. Tom cocked his head, his eyes wild with restrained frenzy. His jaw twitched as soon as the pet name left Tarren’s mouth, which only encouraged the rival mobster further in his taunts. “She even left the back door unlocked for me, Tommy boy. It was so thoughtful of her, wasn’t it? She led you right to me just like I planned.”</p><p>Tarren readjusted the knife to where it was barely hovering over your skin, feigning as though he was carving a line across your throat. His eyes were trained on Tom, a smug smirk on his face as he gauged his adversary’s reaction. Watching the gesture, Tom face tinted even more red than it already was. He seethed as he stood taller, chest puffing out like a final warning.</p><p>The front door opened.</p><p>“What is taking so-”</p><p>Harrison froze. The distraction was enough to draw Tarren’s attention away and for his hold on the knife to loosen. A shot of adrenaline flooded through your veins as you made a split-second decision to push his arm up and away from you. You dipped down under the knife and scrambled away from the enemy, straight over to Tom’s side.</p><p>Your escape threw Tom off-guard as his focus had been fixated on Harrison as well. Fear widened his eyes as he caught sight of your swift movements, but pride shimmered in those dark brown orbs as soon as you were safely tucked under his arm. Tom immediately wielded a gun from the holster of his belt, his weight leaned against you to steady himself as he locked eyes with his target.</p><p>Slowly turning his attention back to Tom, Tarren stared down the barrel of the gun, the darkness in his eyes ever present as he eyed the glint of the shiny black metal like it was an old acquaintance. The look in his eyes only lasted for a moment for as soon as his gaze flickered to you, a surly surge of rage flamed inside of them. “You took <em>everything</em> from me, you bastard.”</p><p>Tom’s laboured breathing was heavy but slowing, hand steady as he clicked the safety off his glock. The arm wrapped around your waist holding you close to his chest squeezed you, pressing your figure impossibly closer to his person. “Likewise,” he snarled. “But it won’t be happening again. I can promise you that.”</p><p>With your head resting against him, you could hear the thundering of Tom’s heart beneath his ribcage and how it pounded like a punch at the mention of Tarren taking you away from him.</p><p>“And while we’re still on the subject of what is yours and what is ours, I believe you’re on <em>our</em> property, Rockland.”</p><p>Tarren scoffed and glowered, but you could tell he realised he was not going to make it out of this situation in the way he had originally hoped.</p><p>“And since we’re all so caught up in boundaries and rules, do you mind refreshing my memory on what exactly you threatened to do if you ever caught someone again? Hmm? I feel that it’s only fair to match the punishment.” Tom indignantly jolted the gun when Tarren did not answer, his fury overriding once more. “<em>Answer me</em> goddammit!”</p><p>You could sense Tom’s pulse rising as you clung to him, and you started to rub your thumb on his back to soothe him a bit, to remind him you were still here, that you are safe under the touch of his fingertips.</p><p>Feeling his muscles loose tension a bit as you continued your ministrations, you allowed your gaze to flit over to Harrison for a moment. He had not uttered a word since he observed what was unfolding in the kitchen, his eyes continuing to study the room as he ambled ever closer to the situation. You knew from his casual attire that he was not bearing a weapon, and that unfortunate fact lingered in your racing mind as the blond sneaked nearer.</p><p>You could feel Tom tense against you, his nose wrinkling in disgust when Tarren’s silence persisted despite the ominous unspoken threats. His weight leaned even more onto you, and you feared his adrenaline was fading and the pain he bore from his injuries was rising back to the surface quicker than a resolution was being reached.</p><p>“I don’t fear death, you know,” the rival mobster finally spoke, his voice carrying prominently as if he was speaking to a crowd of people instead of just Tom. “This life has a price, and that price is death.”</p><p>“Only if you get careless,” Tom opposed swiftly.</p><p>“You’re young, you don’t know yet. You don’t understand that it’s not your death at all you should fear.” Tarren’s eyes flitted over to you, and a sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Though I think you already got a little taste of what I’m trying to say.”</p><p>He cleared his throat before softening his stance, tossing the knife onto the tile floor with a clink. “You think you’re invincible behind that gun, boy. And you are. You are until you pull the trigger.”</p><p>It might have dawned on you that Tarren was stalling and planning a way of escape had his words not been so painfully true, yanking hard on your conscience like barbed wire. How could you bear the thought of someone losing their life at your hands? And as the fire in Tom’s eyes burned fiercely, you were certain that is exactly what the man defending you intended to happen.</p><p>As you hung on his words and Tom’s unwavering attention directed continually at the aim of his gun, you both failed to take notice of Tarren reaching behind his back.</p><p>He drew his gun. He aimed it at you. The trigger pulled.</p><p>In a sobering second, you thought the bullet had hit you square in the chest. That is, until you drew breath, gasping for air that indeed filled your lungs completely. You sank to the floor instantly, your legs quivering and heart hammering so fast your head spun. Tom crouched down in front of you, screaming your name in your face, shaking your shoulders vigorously.</p><p>“Y/N?! Are you hurt? Did it hit you?”</p><p>His sharp voice finally cut through your haze, and you shook your head no wearily as his hands travelled your body frantically to ensure you really had not been hit by the bullet.</p><p>Then another shot was fired, and your focus spun back to Tarren who was rolling around on the ground with Harrison, jarring your sense of relief.</p><p>Tom struggled to his feet once he received confirmation you were unharmed, his free hand clutched to his side. He was already not in the best shape from whatever the hell happened earlier, and worry filled your mind at the lengths he would go to at the expense of himself.</p><p>The ceiling crumbled where the bullet penetrated above you, the dust forming a cloud around the room where the two bodies wrestled on the floor. You already felt like you couldn’t breathe, and the powder filling your lungs now only contributed to that sensation more. You coughed and hacked, the sting in your lungs bringing tears to your eyes, blurring your vision.</p><p>You could hardly make out the image of Tom charging into the swarm of swinging fists, his gun returned to its holster. He latched onto Tarren’s shoulder, trying to yank him off of Harrison. But he was weak, and with one swing of his opponent’s fist connecting with his ribcage, Tom crumbled to the ground with a loud groan.</p><p>A flash of black caught your eye. When you followed it with your line of sight, you saw a gun glide across the tiled floor and come to rest at your side. Your eyes widened, and your vision darted back to Tarren and Harrison, the latter restraining the former from crawling over to you to retrieve his weapon. Pawing at the floor to get barring, Tarren reached out towards you, but you withdrew your legs out of range of his grasp, snatching the gun and hiding it behind your back with shaky hands, backing against the kitchen counter.</p><p>Sweat dripped down Tarren’s face, and he spat as he yelled at you. “Give me the fucking gun or I’ll kill you!”</p><p>With a surge of strength, Tarren flung his arm wildly at Harrison, smacking him in his already injured jaw, sending his back against the wall with a thud. There was a second thud upon impact, and Harrison’s head hung as his limp body slid down the wall of the kitchen in a slump.</p><p>Tarren scrambled to his feet, eyes fixed on you like they were cutting through you to view the gun. He barreled towards you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you clutched the gun even tighter, ready to scramble away. But then he stumbled, and you spotted Tom’s hands wrapped around Tarren’s ankle, tugging him back to the ground. Tom clambered on top of the intruder, fists swinging at his face.</p><p>The small victory only lasted for a short second, because as soon as Tarren rolled over, crushing Tom’s already weakened frame, he unleashed his assault in an immobilizing frenzy.</p><p>Fists pounded, blood spattered, grunts stabbed the air.</p><p>With each collision of knuckles to face, a splat and moan was drawn from Tom. His curled arms, his feeble attempt to shield himself, were continually knocked out the way with each flying fist.</p><p>Tarren was not letting up, in fact, it only seemed to fuel his rage more. “You bastard,” he screamed into the void of Tom’s eyes, not relenting as he pummeled his fists into the flesh and bone of the one you loved. “Someone has to pay for the god-” Smack. “-damn-” Smack. “-actions-” Smack. “-of your <em>fucking</em> family.”</p><p>The cracks and smacks he elicited were bone-chilling. Each punch was bringing Tom nearer and nearer to unconsciousness and for all you knew, the end of his life. And when Tarren unclipped Tom’s gun from his holster, the latter too weak to fight back, your fate was sealed.</p><p>Without second thought, you wielded the gun from behind your back and pulled the trigger.</p><p>Blood turned to ice, vision to black.</p><p>Your head nodded, skull pounding, ears buzzing. A feeling of warmth trickled down the side of your face, the same pain from the night before ever present in the injured spot on your head. You weren’t expecting the recoil from the gun to be that strong, and it must have been enough to slam your head against the kitchen cabinets, white stained red, innocence to impurity.</p><p>The crashing echo of the bullet rang in your ears, the stillness of the kitchen weighing eerily in the air.</p><p>Studying the scene before you, you noticed Harrison still slouched in the corner, piercing blue eyes hidden behind pale eyelids. Crumbled bits of the ceiling lay scattered across the kitchen floor. Deep red spilled onto the floor, mixing with splatters from Tom’s beating.</p><p>Tom.</p><p>The body that slumped on top of him moved.</p><p>“Princess. No no no. Princess, look at me,” Tom pleaded, scrambling from underneath the dead weight of the limp person. He shoved the body off with renewed strength, rolling out from the wreckage of your decision.</p><p>Your eyes were wide, your hand trembling. You still wielded the gun, feeling as if it had become attached to your person and removing it would be like severing a limb. Tearful eyes blurred your vision. You could hardly make out the figure of Tom crawling towards you, firm hand wrapping around the gun aimed at the man, and snatching it away from your hand.</p><p>His empty hand immediately lifted to your face, forcing your line of sight to fix on his dark eyes swimming with fear and concern. “Princess, look at me,” he commanded sternly.</p><p>A solemn droplet slid down your face, and Tom quickly thumbed it away. Your bleary eyes darted back to the body for a split second, blood seeping out from underneath it, staining the tiled floor like wine. You couldn’t help it. This was your doing. You were the reason this man’s life was slipping away breath by suffering breath.</p><p>And the worst part was, sure there were tears in your eyes and a quiver in your hands, but remorse evaded you. You should be hurling in the sink, hands gripping the side of the wash basin in utter despair, sobs wracking your whole body. But you were doing none of those things. Because he attempted to kill your Tommy, and that fact alone was enough to drive you to the unthinkable.</p><p>Heaving chest, you locked eyes with Tom again who shifted so he shielded you from the horrific sight, and his hold on your face tightened every time your gaze threatened to flicker over to the dying man.</p><p>“Hey, hey. This is not your fault.”</p><p>His voice was shaky, his hands just as unsteady. Tom’s gaze diverted to the curve of your mouth, back to your starry, wet lashes. As he shifted his fingers to knot through your hair, he tugged you into his chest, burying your face in the column of his neck.</p><p>You inhaled. He wore the perfume of blood, sweat, and death. It took every part of you not to shove him away and dart out the door, the reality of what you were capable of drifting into your nose with each breath — a luxury that the motionless man mere meters away no longer had.</p><p>“You saved my life, Y/N,” he whispered. “You did what you had to do.”</p><p>That was the issue. What else would you do for Tom because of an obligation of love, a deep-rooted loyalty to the man constantly toying with danger like an arsonist with a flame? In this moment, you were more fearful of yourself than you were the death lingering in the room or the gun gripped in Tom’s hand. His life on the line was justification enough to take that very thing away from another man. Who the fuck appointed you god over that stranger’s life?</p><p>It was all take in this world — everything up for grabs.</p><p>Life.</p><p>Guns.</p><p>Booze.</p><p>Safety.</p><p>Property.</p><p>Innocence.</p><p>And here you were feeding into that heinous sentiment. You were no better than the very people who dragged you into this world in the first place.</p><p>Like he was reading your thoughts, Tom said, “This doesn’t make you a bad person, Y/N. You were protecting me. You didn’t do anything I wouldn’t do for you. Hell, you didn’t do anything I haven’t already done for you.” Your eyes widened, and Tom looked sheepishly at your stunned expression. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t tell you that.”</p><p>“Tom, I don’t ever want to have to do that again,” you whispered with a quivering voice.</p><p>He shook his head fervently. “Never. Promise.”</p><p>As you gazed into Tom’s eyes, you realised you had finally seen it all. This was Tom. Raw, real, reckless. There was no line he wouldn’t dare cross or height he wouldn’t dare climb. It was all black and white for him – wrongs made right with more wrongs. You knew it already, yet as you sat on the kitchen floor seeing him littered in bruises and blood, some his own and some another’s, it rattled you to your core. You were finally a witness to your hold on his heart, any doubts of Harrison’s earlier statement shattered. It was in or out, for better or for worse.</p><p>His chest heaved as you stared blankly at him. Tom wore heavy lines on his face, a shadow of remorse blended with relief. His cheeks were splattered with just as much blood as freckles, stream of blood dripping out of his nose, and when you noticed that fact, your mind jumped back to how you ended up here in the first place.</p><p>You reached out to touch his face, retracting your hand when he grimaced at even the slightest brush of your fingers. “What-what happened?”</p><p>Tom swallowed hard before he answered. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”</p><p>“Tom-”</p><p>“No,” he bit. “You don’t need to know.” His voice softened when he became conscious of the unnecessary harshness in his tone. “You’ve seen too much already.”</p><p>Rustling stirred your attention. Tom hastily pointed the gun in the direction of the noise, but lowered it as soon as he checked the source.</p><p>A stumbling Harrison clambered to his feet, holding the wall for support. Yours and Tom’s eyes followed the blond to where he towered over the limp body. Dipping down, Harrison held two fingers to Tarren’s throat to check his pulse. He hummed to himself, picking up Tom’s discarded gun from the floor, standing straight and aiming it at Tarren’s head.</p><p>“You might want to look away,” he murmured before pulling the trigger.</p><p>Your face was back to the crook of Tom’s neck, though the mere sound of Harrison’s shot was enough to inform you that the man was now officially deceased. As simple as the merciful act was, it almost put you at ease. It hadn’t been your bullet that ended his life, though that was only a small consolation to the fact that it would have been if it were not for Harrison.</p><p>“It’s done, okay?” Tom cooed in your ear, brushing your hair with his blood-stained, bruising hands.</p><p>When you had stayed in his arms long enough to stop shaking, you pulled away from the safety of his chest to look at him.</p><p>“Princess, you’re bleeding.”</p><p>The pads of his fingertips grazed your forehead, traveling down to your neck. You became conscious of the sensation of wetness dripping down your skin, staining your shirt. The concern marred his pretty features, and you almost laughed at the absurdity of the comment. Here Tom sat with cuts and bruises and a bloody nose, probably broken ribs too, and his main worry was a shallow cut on your neck from the knife and a reopened gash.</p><p>“I’m okay, Tommy.” You passed him a small smile. “Really.”</p><p>“No,” he insisted firmly, brows pinched. “You’re not okay.”</p><p>Pushing off the floor and gripping the kitchen counter for support, Tom climbed to his feet. You mimicked his actions, wrapping your arms around him to help stabilise him.</p><p>“It’s just a cut.” Your lips drew into a tight line. After everything that transpired, he needed to rest, not worry about the minor injuries you sustained. If anyone, he was the one requiring medical attention. “Tom, you can hardly stand up straight for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>His eyes blazed with unwavering persistence, and the tips of his fingers brushed against your palm before halting in their tracks. With one uneasy glance at Harrison who was studying the two of you, a silent exchange of words took place in the form of slight nods. Tom slipped your hands together at once, pulling you along behind him down the hallway. You were grateful he did because your frazzled nerves left your hands trembling, only stilled with the touch of Tom’s sure hands knitting with yours.</p><p>As you padded down the corridor, you overheard Harrison talking on the phone asking for some backup to get the place in order and remove the body. The whole situation was unnerving, and as you found yourself squished in the tiny bathroom moments later with Tom’s hands on your waist hoisting you up onto the counter, it only compounded your whirling emotions.</p><p>“Is everyone else okay?” you asked quietly when Tom crouched down to rummage through the cupboard.</p><p>He nodded a little, tongue poking out to wet his lips briefly. “Harry was clipped with a bullet in the shoulder, but he’ll recover. No one else you know was injured.”</p><p>So more blood was spilled for your sake. The mere thought sent a shiver down your spine.</p><p>After pulling out a first aid kit, Tom stood back up with the help of your hand, preparing a cotton pad with wound cleaning solution. You parted your swinging legs, allowing him to step in between them. He carefully brushed any stray hair out of your face, tracing the outline of your face, tucking the strands behind your ear. Tom met your eyes for a brief moment, split lips parting like he was about to say something, but he instead pressed them back together, turning his gaze back on the gash on your forehead.</p><p>His touch was gentle and caring as he dabbed around it carefully. You bit down on your lip hard to suppress a groan when the pad finally touched the open wound, and he grimaced when you finally let out a hiss.</p><p>“I’m sorry, love.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Tommy,” you replied quietly.</p><p>Once he finished with the one on your forehead, he took the bottle of cleaning solution, haphazardly squirting some more onto a clean cotton pad. Lifting it to the cut of your neck, he patted it carefully as to not make the thin line any worse.</p><p>You raised your eyebrows at him when his movements became repetitive. “Are you done now?”</p><p>Tom’s gaze remained on your neck, a small flick of his head telling you he wasn’t finished. The way he refused to take his eyes off the injury had you rolling your eyes. He was always so stubborn. He was avoiding something, you could tell, prolonging the tender graze of his fingertips over your skin, raising chill bumps in their wake.</p><p>You finally broke the silence when you could stand it no longer. “Now can I please at least put a bandage on your cut?”</p><p>He refused the cleaning solution at first, but finally conceded and allowed you to clean the wound and place a bandage over the cut near his eyebrow, the one where the hairs laid quirkily. As you smoothed over it, you felt his eyes on you, studying your face, deep lines on his features. His hands rested on your knees, his thumbs absentmindedly moving on the inner part of your knee.</p><p>“You know you’re going to get a permanent crease in the middle of your forehead if you keep looking at me like that.”</p><p>Tom sighed and took the piece of cotton from you, tossing it in the rubbish bin. He grabbed your face with both hands roughly, snapping your head so close to his you flinched, breath catching in the back of your throat. His breathing was so unsteady you almost thought he was seething, but when his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the jaded mobster shook his head, determined and bleary brown eyes boring back at you when they reopened.</p><p>“Kiss me.” His voice cracked – broken, hoarse, scratchy. Hot puffs of air rippled across the skin of your face. Noses nudged, breaths held. After a few pounding beats of your heart, his jaw set firmly and he added, wounded and pleading, “<em>Please</em>?”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Fallin' All in You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In half a heartbeat your lips collided with his. His gravelly voice died on his tongue when you lunged forward, closing the unbearable gap left between your mouths.</p><p>Tom’s sharp inhale tensed his muscles like he was not expecting you to kiss him back which only made you kiss him with much greater fervor. His hot touch seared the side of your face, reminding you of the blissful feeling when you’ve lingered out in the sun for too long — its gentle caress seeping into your flesh and the moment it slipped away would leave your skin feeling cold and lonely.</p><p>Your eyelids fluttered downwards, eyelashes dancing across your cheeks as you peered at Tom and the way his eyes pinched shut as his mouth moved with yours in vice-tight motions. The crease in the middle of his forehead was prominent as ever, dark eyes full of buried secrets hidden behind vaults of soft pale skin.</p><p>When you finally allowed your eyes to close fully, the harsh light of the bathroom dissipating to darkness, you honed in on the feeling of his lips on yours. He was gentle yet fierce — he was telling you how much he loved you and wanted you all at once in one overwhelming act of passion. You knew it because it was exactly what you were conveying right back to him, arms thrown over his shoulders to fuse your bodies together in every possible way as the rest of the world melted away.</p><p>All of the waiting and the obstacles that had prolonged the arrival of this moment faded with each passing second his lips firmly pressed against yours, tongues twisting against each other, small moans and sighs of sweet relief making passage through the cracks of your mouths.</p><p>Your heart took root the second Tom’s lips touched yours, and you were afraid even the slightest bit of air coming between you would cut like knives. You could hardly bear the idea of separating yourself from him, but there was one more thing that needed to be done. There was one last stone of the crumbled wall that needed to be dismantled.</p><p>Brick by brick. Brick by gentle touch by movie night cuddle by sentimental gift by vow of protection by act of vengeance by brick had Tom stormed into your life. But this last brick was yours to disassemble.</p><p>When Tom’s hot hands slid down to rest right under your jaw, slender fingers grazing the back of your neck, palms cupping the pillar of your throat gently, you pulled away only for his mouth to chase yours and a helpless whimper escape his mouth. It tore your heart in two but ignited your swift courage.</p><p>“I love you,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen lips. “I’m in love with you, Tom, and I have no idea what to do with myself when I’m around you.”</p><p>You were far enough apart to catch sight of the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. You chuckled airly at his expression — stun, disbelief, love drunk — the uncharacteristic brightness in his eyes making your heart sting with adoration.</p><p>“And I have even less of an idea of what to do without you,” you finished.</p><p>Even with his face puffy and discoloured from the fight, he looked the happiest you had ever seen him. His bright smile overtook his whole face, and he clung to the nape of your neck, his thumbs tracing the line of your collarbone. His lips parted like he was about to speak when another voice interrupted, grounding you back to earth, back to the house, back to the fumes of war.</p><p>“They-” Harrison paused in the doorway when he noticed how close you and Tom were to each other. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together of what had just transpired. Harrison instantly glanced away into the nearest bedroom, clearing his throat before continuing. “They, uh, they’re on their way to take care of things. The crew should be here soon.”</p><p>“Thank you, Harrison,” Tom said, allowing his hands to fall off your person for the first moment since he grabbed your face. They came to rest on the counter on either side of you, caging you in between his arms as your legs still dangled from where you were perched.</p><p>It only took a couple more minutes before the other mob members to arrive, filing in one behind the other in purpose.</p><p>Tom aired his concern about you staying in the house while the crew cleaned, and while you wanted to put up a fight, you knew he was right. You were emotionally and physically exhausted, you were covered in sweat and grime, and there wasn’t a whole lot you wanted more than a hot shower at the moment even if that meant departing without Tom.</p><p>When Harrison piped in and offered to drive you back to the Parish like originally planned, Tom insisted you go. He swallowed thickly as soon as the words left his mouth like it had pained him to consider letting you out of his sight. You definitely did not want to leave him behind either especially after finally confessing how you felt, but he was the second in command after all, and he was in charge of supervising the mess he had brought upon his childhood home.</p><p>As soon as Harrison left to carry your bag out to the car, Tom immediately cupped your face, thumbing across the residual smeared tarnish of garnet on your cheeks as his sure expression fell to an even more serious one. “You’ll be waiting for me, won’t you?”</p><p>It almost made you laugh that even after your heart-felt moment of truth he still needed the reassurance, but then you remembered how fleeting the other things he loved in his life were, and you nodded firmly. “That wasn’t a goodbye kiss, Tommy.”</p><p>A timid smile tugged at his lips, and you could see the relief wash over him as his muscles relaxed. “Good.” He placed a quick peck to your lips. “I was praying it wasn’t.”</p><p>“I’ve got you praying already? There might be hope for you yet.”</p><p>He chuckled and shook his head. “You drive me mad, woman.”</p><p>Minutes later, you waved as Harrison backed the car out of the drive, and watched as Tom disappeared back inside the small house.</p><p>The two of you weaved tangled streets back to the Parish, your head leaned back against the headrest. You occasionally glanced over at Harrison, his once pale blue eyes cold and impenetrable as permafrost were now softened towards you once more. Everything felt right in the world save for your sore muscles which were making a strong comeback now that the adrenaline in your system had worn off.</p><p>Once you passed through the familiar gates of the estate, Harrison lugged your suitcase up the stairs to your old room where Olivia sat on your bed, scrolling on her phone while she waited for you to come back. Harrison disappeared down the hall after giving you a quick kiss on your cheek, saying it was good to have you back and leaving you alone with Liv.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, what happened to your face? I patched you up this morning. You look like you just got into a fight.”</p><p>“Well,” you started, smiling sheepishly as her jaw went slack. “Let’s just say, there was a surprise waiting for us when we got to the house.”</p><p>“You can’t just say that and expect me not to demand to know everything,” Olivia said, folding her arms across her chest.</p><p>So you told her what happened. And after she gasped and winced at the recount of the story, you left her on a note that made her so thrilled she started dancing around the room.</p><p>“And after I cleaned up the cut above Tom’s eyebrow, he kissed me.”</p><p>“He <em>what</em>?!”</p><p>“He kissed me,” you repeated, a face-splitting smile on your face.</p><p>After she was done squealing with excitement, Olivia hugged you tight, rocking you from side to side as her arms wrapped around your shoulders. “It’s about bloody time that boy got his shit together.”</p><p>You chuckled a little, but your tone shifted more serious when you pulled away from the embrace. “I honestly didn’t think I would hear you say that after everything that happened.”</p><p>“Well if it wasn’t obvious before, as soon as you left the Parish, Tom moped around like he lost his best friend. And I had a feeling before then, but that just confirmed my suspicion that he had fallen for you.”</p><p>“Do you really think he has?” you asked, an undeniable twinkle of hope in your tone.</p><p>“There’s not a lot of certainty in this life,” she said. “But that is one thing I am absolutely confident about.”</p><p>Her genuine smile solidified her opinion, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you considered hearing those words you had shared with Tom spoken back to you. You didn’t necessarily need to hear him say it. You knew he loved you. He put everything on the line for you. Hell, even other people could see it too. But you wanted to hear those three words roll off his tongue like every other sure thing he had ever said.</p><p>“Well,” you sighed. “I’m going to go shower, Liv. I’ll see you in the morning.”</p><p>“Okay.” She brought you in for another hug. “You know where to find me if you need me.”</p><p>After she left the room, you peeled off your ruined clothes, tossing the blood-stained garments into the corner of your room to throw away the next day. You doubted you would ever want to wear a reminder of what happened today again anyways.</p><p>You walked into the bathroom, and started the shower, waiting until the steam filled the small room before stepping inside. As soon as the water fell over your person, the drain below tainted red, washing away the evidence of your affliction. You pinched your eyes closed as soon as you looked down, scrubbing hard against your skin to wash it all away, removing the mark of sin from your flesh.</p><p>Once wrapped in a clean towel, you felt better. That is, until you leaned over the sink to look at yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was a complete stranger. You didn’t know the girl that would shoot someone without a second thought or entertain the idea of living in a house full of criminals or even dare to fall for the kingpin of the entire syndicate. The reflection was not the girl that walked into a club with her roommate months ago. You had come out on the other side victorious, but with blood on your hands and a heavy weight on your conscience.</p><p>You sighed deeply, moving away from your reflection. It was another reminder of how dangerous and toxic this world was. Was it really too late to back out now?</p><p>You changed into pajamas and stood in the doorway of your room.</p><p>As you glanced back down the hallway towards the door of Tom’s bedroom, your heart thumped wildly beneath your ribcage. You had a final decision to make — one you could not take lightly. Would you stay in a world where the blood of family ran as deep as the blood spilt in a fleeting moment of fury? Would you leave it all behind for a normal life knowing you would never see these people who had impacted your life so drastically ever again?</p><p>You thought of Tom’s face if he came back to find you absent. You pictured Harrison and Olivia carrying on their daily lives without you, falling into a new routine where you no longer belonged. You thought of the life you would live and the new friends you would make. They didn’t need to know about this. No one would ever know.</p><p>With your hands clean and mind clear, your feet carried you to your decision – your fate sealed.</p><p>You waited on his bed for about an hour before you heard the tap of his dress shoes echo down the hall. They approached slowly and with a steady rhythm which only accelerated your heart rate even more. Click scuff, click scuff. Had you not been shut behind the undisturbed doors of his bedroom, you could have sworn anyone looking at you could physically see it trying to beat out of your chest.</p><p>When the door knob clicked, swinging open to reveal Tom, your heart skipped beneath your ribcage. He had a bag of ice pressed against his ribs, the gash above his eyebrow still bandaged from earlier. A strand of his hair hung in his face, dried sweat stiffening his usually soft curls.</p><p>When he laid eyes on you, Tom froze. Your gaze darted between his darkened eyes to his lips.</p><p>You didn’t need to say anything. You could see it in his eyes in the way they lit up when you stood from the bed and ran straight into his arms. Tom hardly had time to put the ice pack on his dresser before your arms were wrapped around his neck and your lips crashing into his.</p><p>It took a moment before he started to kiss back, taken aback by your uncharacteristic forwardness. His lips softened, though, and Tom pulled at the back of your neck to move you closer. He hummed into the kiss, inhaling sharply through his nose. For a moment, you were afraid you hurt him more, but then his fingers knotted through your hair, deepening the kiss, teeth clashing in the process. You melted into his touch, finally being able to relax having Tom right beneath your fingertips – no danger looming, no prying eyes.</p><p>His lips felt like home, and you weren’t sure you would be able to pull away. They molded against yours so sweetly but so full of passion and purpose. It left you reeling, feeling like the effects of the drugs trafficked in the rooms beneath your feet were inferior compared to this sensation.</p><p>Tom’s other hand slipped down your waist, tugging your body closer to him. His grip sheathed further into your side when you slid your tongue across his bottom lip, asking for more. Parting your mouth with his firm lips, he slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring each other all over again. The salty taste from his dried sweat mingled with the metallic tint of blood from his split lip, but it was raw and full of all of the pent-up emotions coursing through both your veins as you grabbed at each other desperate to feel close.</p><p>You were breathless already, but you couldn’t stop. You had waited so long for the sure feeling of his lips on yours to be thwarted by something as fleeting as air.</p><p>As Tom spun you around, pressing you against the closed wooden door to his bedroom, you moaned into his mouth. Your sore muscles could wait for tomorrow. Right now, you wanted this, wanted him more than anything else, craving a deeper connection than words could offer.</p><p>Reaching down, Tom grabbed at the back of your thigh, hoisting it to rest over his hip as he pressed himself against your aching center. The bulge in his trousers rubbed against you, your draw dropping in a gasp which quickly turned into a smile knowing he was equally as turned on as you were. You knew he was in pain, but you couldn’t stop the longing between your legs from growing as he kissed you fiercely, teeth and tongues bumping softly against one another.</p><p>When one of his hands traveled down to your ass, squeezing lightly, you groaned, bucking your hips forward into his instinctively. You both gasped at the contact, breaking the kiss as heavy puffs of air filled the thick air between you.</p><p>Sliding your hand down, you wiped your thumb across Tom’s bottom lip, mesmerized at the thought that you had just kissed it moments ago for the second time in your life. You brought your lips to his for a quick peck to reassure yourself that you weren’t just dreaming – that he was really here safe in your arms.</p><p>His ragged breaths steadied as your eyes raked over the features of his face, hovering over the curve of his lips. Tom carded his fingers through your hair before saying, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”</p><p>You smiled back, your heart pounding at his confession. “Why don’t you do it again then?”</p><p>Tom’s hand traveled from your hair to the front of your neck, ghosting over the fresh wound from the knife. You had both been through hell today, but his touch was a little piece of heaven soothing your clouded mind.</p><p>Complying immediately, he placed two fingers underneath your chin and brought your face back to his, kissing you so softly. Your lips barely brushed at first as if he was testing the waters to see if you would pull away. When you leaned into him, his motions became determined, intense, like he needed your kiss just as much as he needed oxygen.</p><p>As the two of you moved together seamlessly, one of his hands slid up the side of your outer thigh, unhurriedly ghosting over the bare skin of your exposed legs. It was a gradual movement, allowing you to stop him at any moment he crossed a line you did not want to cross. But a protest never came. When his finger glided over the soft fabric of your panties, his movements paused, teasingly fiddling with the hem.</p><p>When he drew his hand away, you nearly whimpered at the loss of his touch. “Tommy,” you whined, your heart panging and your mouth panting.</p><p>“I want you so bad, darling,” he whispered, his hand gliding up your neck to cup the side of your face.</p><p>The desperation in his voice sent a spark straight to your core. But he was injured, and you did not want to cause him more pain. “But your ribs, Tom.”</p><p>“Fuck it,” he breathed. “I want you more. Let me make you feel good. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”</p><p>The breath in your lungs left again, your head spinning in a lustful haze. You nodded your head eagerly. “Please, Tommy.”</p><p>A smirk tugged at the corner of Tom’s pink, swollen lips. “God, I love it when you call me that.”</p><p>You practically lunged at him, reconnecting your lips as he slid his hand into your flimsy pajama shorts, fingers brushing over your clothed heat, feeling the wetness collected on the fabric. Tom moaned with the realization that just kissing him had that effect on you, spurring him to kiss you with even greater fervor.</p><p>He pulled away for just a moment. “Can I-“</p><p>“Yes,” you cut him off, bringing his lips back to yours.</p><p>That was all the confirmation Tom needed. Sliding the damp material to the side, he glided two fingers between your slick folds.</p><p>“Fuck, Y/N/N,” he groaned as your hand palmed him through his dress pants. Tom was hard as a rock, punctuated with a little wet spot seeping through the cotton fabric of his boxers that you took notice of when unzipping his trousers, and it elicited a satisfied smile from you.</p><p>He leaned his head against your shoulder, fingers nimbly finding and circling your bundle of nerves drenched in your arousal. You whimpered at the contact, your leg hooking behind his body, heel digging into his lower back as he moved his fingers to your sleek entrance, slowly pushing two digits into your dripping hole. They felt heavenly, stretching you like you hadn’t been stretched in months – just like you had imagined they would feel inside of</p><p>you.</p><p>“Oh god,” you cried, tossing your head back.</p><p>“Yeah?” he teased, hot breath on your neck. “ Does that feel good, pretty girl?”</p><p>Your face heated up impossibly hotter at the new nickname as you clenched around his fingers.</p><p>Your reaction brought a proud smirk across his face. “You like that? Do you like it when I call you my pretty girl?”</p><p>Unable to form words, you nodded your head reverently in confirmation. Another moan escaped your lips as Tom curled his fingers and they brushed against your g-spot. At this point, your hand released his bulge through his trousers, too overwhelmed by the pleasure to focus on anything else. Your legs started to quiver as he thrusted his fingers deep inside you, hitting the same spot that made your eyes roll back over and over again.</p><p>His lips attached themselves to the unharmed skin of the side of your neck. He placed tender pecks at first, each sweet caress so light it tickled. But then your moans progressed louder and more frequent as you quickly approached your high, and his kisses became bruising as they marked the base of your neck all the way to the sensitive flesh underneath your ear.</p><p>“Tommy,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop.”</p><p>“I’m not stopping, princess. Not until you’re falling apart for me.”</p><p>Tom placed his thumb against your clit, making sure to hit it with each thrust of his fingers. In seconds, you buried your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your moans and curses, legs trembling, and your walls pulsing around his fingers.</p><p>“That’s it. Atta girl,” he purred. He lazily pumped his fingers in and out of you until you came down from your high, making sure to rub circles on your clit with his wet fingers after he removed them from your core. “Bloody hell, you make the prettiest noises.”</p><p>“Please, Tommy,” you panted impatiently. “I need to feel you inside of me.”</p><p>He started fumbling with the buttons of his dress shirt, but you simply could not wait a second longer. Grabbing a hold of the collar and ripping it open, you sent little buttons scattering across the room.</p><p>“Dear god you’re going to be the death of me, darling,” Tom said as you pushed down the sleeves of his shirt.</p><p>The fabric pooled behind his feet, and your eyes travelled up his body. There were swelling welts on his ribs where he was punched, smaller cuts and dried blood, splattered blotches of purple and green and red. Your fingers followed your eyes, lightly tracing around each wound. You winced when he hissed and frowned when he pulled your hand away, interlocking your fingers together.</p><p>“I’ve been in worse shape,” he said. “I’ll get better.”</p><p>Lifting your hand to his lips, Tom peppered little kisses to the back of your hand.</p><p>“We don’t have to do this right now, you know,” you offered, voice full of concern.</p><p>He leaned forward, nudging your noses together, letting his hands fall to your waist. “We can wait if you want to, but there’s nothing that would help me more right now than to let me show you how much I love you, how much I need you.” He reached up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your profile. “And how much I want to take you against this fucking door.”</p><p>Finally hearing those words said back to you ignited a fresh flame of desire inside of you. “God, yes.”</p><p>Soft and gentle movements were exchanged for swift and fiery motions as he reattached his lips to yours.</p><p>Scrunching his trousers and boxers halfway down his thighs, Tom grabbed a hold of his length, pumping it a few times to get ready for you though he was already painfully hard. As he positioned himself at your entrance, he met your eyes. They swirled with blazing passion, and they flamed even brighter when he pushed into you, watching as your lips parted while he inched into your wet center.</p><p>“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so bloody tight around me.” Resting his head against your shoulder, Tom pinched his eyes closed. “I’m going to lose it if I move right now.”</p><p>Your walls instinctively clenched around him, and he hissed at the sensation. You couldn’t help a giggle from leaving your mouth. “Has it been that long?”</p><p>Leaving sloppy kisses to your marked neck, Tom kissed his way to your ear. “It has, darling. And it’s <em>you</em>. I’ve gone bloody mental waiting for you.”</p><p>Your hands slid up from their place on his broad shoulders, toying with the soft tufts of hair at the base of his neck. “You don’t have to wait any longer. I’m all yours.”</p><p>A lopsided grin took over his face as he leaned in, lips ghosting over yours. “All mine?” he asked, pulling out and thrusting back into you.</p><p>Your hands fell to his shoulders once more, steadying yourself as Tom held your thigh in one hand, your waist pressed against the door with the other. His pace started out slow, but quickly grew in speed. You could almost sense the needy desperation in each roll of his hips. You were his and he was yours at last. And he was solidifying that fact with every purposeful stroke, every jolt of his hips.</p><p>“Faster, Tommy,” you whimpered.</p><p>You had almost lost each other. You had almost not made it out on the other side to tell him how you felt.</p><p>His brows pinched together as he thrusted into you faster and deeper. Each rocking motion sent your back colliding with the door in a soft thud, but you simply could not give a fuck if anyone heard. With the dim light of the room, it finally felt as if it was just you and Tom. You and Tom and the love between you.</p><p>“Fuck, Y/N,” Tom panted. “I need you. I need all of you.”</p><p>“You have me, Tommy. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>The warmth in your core doubled. You could feel the rush of blood coursing through you. Each pound of your heart, every ragged breath brought you closer to the edge. Your nails dug crescent moons into the top of his back, dragging their way down as your grip faltered, leaving red streaks in their wake.</p><p>“Say you’ll be mine,” he said, his pace slowing for just a second. His deep brown eyes appeared as wounded as when he had first asked to kiss you while they traced the curve of your mouth, watching the way the words fell from your lips.</p><p>“I’m yours,” you confirmed, gasping when he picked up the pace.</p><p>He was always yours, and truthfully, you were always his.</p><p>“I’m gonna- I’m-” You gasped when your high washed over you, your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. “Tommy.”</p><p>Your cry carried throughout the room, the sound accompanied by the steady drum of Tom’s thrusts unwavering until he too came undone, slowly stilling inside of you. Both of your chests heaved, hot breath filling the quiet air.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he breathed, resting his head on your shoulder. You could feel the tension in his muscles return as your hand immediately found his bare back, rubbing circles over its expanse.</p><p>“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”</p><p>He kissed the divot where your neck met your shoulder, the wet peck tainted by a single salty tear. “I dragged you into this life.”</p><p>“Tommy, I chose to say. I don’t care how I got here because it led me to you.”</p><p>“But am I worth it?”</p><p>You pushed on his shoulders, forcing him to look you in the eyes. Those sweet brown orbs with red in their corner. He looked exhausted, weary, the pain finally catching up to him and spilling out in fits of doubt. “You’re worth it all, Tom.”</p><p>His head fell once more to your shoulder, allowing you to cradle him in your arms for a short while. When he lifted his head from your shoulder on his own accord, he grazed his nose across the side of your neck, kissing the spot right under your ear. “I promise to make it worth it. Every single day.”</p><p>You smiled at him. There was nothing more that he could do other than simply continuing to be the man you fell in love with against your will and perhaps your better judgement. He was irrevocably everything you could ever need, and that would always be enough.</p><p>“Let’s go to bed, darling. Stay with me?”</p><p>“As long as you’ll have me,” you answered.</p><p>After quickly cleaning up, the two of you made your way into Tom’s bed. The cool silk brushed against your skin, reminding you of the first night you spent beneath his sheets in the safe cove of his arms. You were about to ask for him to hold you close, to hold you tight when you saw the grimace on his face as he reclined rather slowly into the bed next to you.</p><p>“Tom-”</p><p>“I’m alright,” he groaned.</p><p>You bit back the need to roll your eyes. He could be so stubborn. “I’m getting you another pillow.”</p><p>When you retrieved another pillow from his luxurious closet, you helped him sit up and placed it behind him. You could feel his gaze fixated on you. The brown in his eyes soft, the skin of his lips calling your name. He looked at you like you put the stars in the sky, and you truly had no idea why. He was an esteemed mobster, and you an ordinary girl. Yet here you were, a mere guest turned princess in his castle.</p><p>When you had fluffed the pillows behind him a humorous amount of times, Tom’s hand wrapped around your wrist. “I love you, Y/N.”</p><p>You leaned down, gracing his lips with a tender kiss. “I love you too, Tom.”</p><p>You situated yourself right up next to him, his arm wrapped loosely across your shoulders, his fingertips finding their way back to you if you happened to drift away from him. You never thought that he could ever look so vulnerable like this– peacefully asleep, lips parted, soft snores, disheveled tufts of hair, bruised face.</p><p>Suddenly, it didn’t matter how he procured this wealth or handled business disagreements, how he treated you was what mattered. And as you laid in his arms, the pads of his fingers tracing circles over your naked shoulder absentmindedly when he roused from fleeting slumber, there was not a doubt that plagued your mind that there was not a thing Tom would not do to be with you, to keep you safe and secure, to demonstrate how much he loved you. And that was enough.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this last chapter is from Tom's POV</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tom stole glances of her like the rotten thief he was. Sleep came easy to him, she was right beneath his touch, she was safe in his arms, she was finally his. But when the pain medication wore off in the dark of the night, sleep taunted him, hanging heavy on his eyelids but not consuming him. So he diverted his attention to Y/N, soundly sleeping where she belonged, beautiful and caring and innocent.</p><p>Tom clung to the visions of the day prior.</p><p>Hand shaking, he had reached for her face, trembling stained fingertips grazing her cheek. Y/N closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek as he cupped her face. His thumb soothed with delicate touches. He left smears that looked all too much like the blemish of merlot, and his lip quaked with abhorrence of what she witnessed and what she had to do in order to defend him.</p><p>His greatest fear had come to fruition. Y/N had seen him. Seen him for who he was — a savage, reckless and relentless, a pawn of the devil himself. This was what he was, plain and simple. Yet she did not run away. There were no more guards, no more secrets between the two of them. And she still chose him. Even after all of the ups and down, all of the challenges and doubts.</p><p>Her gentle eyes wild with fear was what he would remember the most. The life Tom lived was not fit for a girl like her, yet she stayed. Not only that, Y/N gave a part of herself to him in a way no one else had. Not even the solemn oath of those pledging their loyalty to the mob could compare.</p><p>It had been so long since he felt the touch of a woman, and even longer since the touch of a woman he loved. Those days dated back to his time as a horny teenage boy, drunk on puppy love for pretty girls that dared to get too close to the bad boy called Tommy.</p><p>It had been equally as long since anyone called him Tommy. Each time that nickname fell from her lips, his heart rate sky-rocketed, and he was certain Y/N could see it palpating through his shirt. Especially now as he reclined in his bed — their bed — with her head pressed against his bare shoulder in the soft light of dawn.</p><p>Her body was equally as bare, the two of them basking in the feeling of becoming one, exploring every part that drew out moans of ecstasy and sultry breaths. Curled toes and heaving chests was how the night unraveled, and how the morning started.</p><p>The pads of Tom’s fingertips ghosted over her exposed shoulder, tracing the line of her collarbone over to the swell of her shoulder. His lips pressed tender kisses to her neck down to the top of her shoulder.</p><p>He relished in the feeling of her beneath his fingertips, his lips on her soft skin, the intoxicating scent of her perfume filling his nose. While he might still consider her delicate and dainty, Tom knew she was far more those attributes. She was fierce and a force to be reckoned with when placed in a dangerous situation, and there was not a doubt in Tom’s mind that she would do it all over again if it came down to it.</p><p>“I love you,” he whispered over her skin, his hot breath fanning across the nape of her neck.</p><p>Y/N shivered, her arms folding across her front as a silly grin played on her lips as she roused. “I love you too, Tommy,” she whispered back, sleep gripped in her raspy voice.</p><p>“I want to make love to you.” The words left his mouth before he even realised what he was saying. He had never made love before, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try for her sake. The adoration in his heart dedicated for Y/N was undeniably unmatched by anyone, and he felt it was only right to demonstrate that very fact to her in the best way he knew how.</p><p>Tom couldn’t help but smile when she opened her wide, beautiful eyes. The grin grew impossibly bigger still when a little giggle echoed throughout the room.</p><p>One of her fingers snuck out of the silk sheets, tracing its way up Tom’s arm, across his collar bones, to the other arm to snake down. When she reached his hand, he intertwined their fingers, guiding her to straddle him. She was gentle with her movements, cautious that every rock of the bed might bring more pain to Tom’s ribs.</p><p>“Do you want some painkillers first, Tommy?”</p><p>He shook his head. The pain was there, but he didn’t care. He wanted her, all of her, again–over and over and as many times as she would let him lave her in his love.</p><p>Y/N reached up and swept some of his hair away from his face. Against Tom’s will, he felt a blush paint thick on his cheeks. He would never grow accustomed to the tender touch of this girl. Partly out of being unacquainted with such a level of affection and partly because he vowed to never let himself take it for granted.</p><p>As Tom’s hands slid up her thighs, sinking into the curve of her waist, he drew her forward so she was leaning over him until their lips met. And it was like the world around them never existed. He was just a man with the woman he loved in their bed, alone and at peace at last.</p><p>One of his hands started to wander her body–bare and beautiful. It traced a line from her hip to her breast, cupping the supple flesh in his hands, kneading until she was whimpering in his mouth. He’d never get over those pretty little noises all for him.</p><p>Tom’s other hand dipped between her legs, fondling her sensitive bud until she was biting his lip to keep from crying out in pleasure.</p><p>“You’re so gorgeous, princess,” he cooed. Tom was always in awe of her, but seeing her unravel at the work of his own hand stirred something inside of him that he would be chasing his entire life. “Look at you. You’re a bloody angel.”</p><p>He could see the way Y/N’s expression always shifted when he called her his princess or his angel or his love. She would always shrink back into her shell for a moment, but it would draw her out even more in the end.</p><p>Warmth of her breath puffed out across his face as Tom continued to rub her bundle of nerves precisely, changing motions to see what she liked best. He could spend all day every day figuring out what makes her tick, what makes her scream, what makes her sigh airily like she was doing right now.</p><p>“If you don’t stop, I’m going to cum,” she warned.</p><p>“That’s kind of the point, darling.”</p><p>And there was that eye roll that never failed to bring crinkles to the corners of his eyes.</p><p>“I want you to be inside of me.”</p><p>Y/N didn’t need to say it twice for Tom to stop his movements–slowly though, to watch her mouth drop open and forehead rest against his as her chest heaved heavy.</p><p>It wasn’t until his motions came to a complete halt that Tom realised how hard he was for her. His cock twitched beneath the covers when she lowered her weight onto his lower half, studying his face for any signs of discomfort. If it meant he would be with her, he’d hide a world of pain behind a smile just to watch her fall apart above him. But thankfully, the ache in his ribs seemed to move to the back-burner as his focus shifted to Y/N and solely her.</p><p>Peeling back the blankets, she now sat on top of his thighs, wrapping her delicate hand around his shaft that ached for her. A small sigh slipped past his lips when she steadied her grip, pumping him up and down as little dribbles of precum collected at the tip. It was so sensitive he hissed when she circled the flushed head of his cock with her nimble thumb, dragging the wet pad of her finger down his length with each calculated movement.</p><p>It was so easy for Tom to get lost in her, it was a miracle he was able to reopen his eyes to guide her back closer to his face. She let go of his pulsing cock as she crawled towards him, and it took everything in Tom’s power to convince himself it would be worth the wait of cumming inside of her.</p><p>When she was mere millimeters from his face, Y/N stopped, nose hardly brushing she was so close. She leaned in like she was going to kiss him only to pull away at the last second, watching his lips chase her touch.</p><p>“You tease,” Tom chided. “Come here.”</p><p>Wrapping a hand around her neck, he pulled her in, crashing their lips together in an actual kiss.</p><p>When he pulled away breathless, Tom thought he might lose his head when Y/N repositioned herself, grasping his length in her hands, sliding down on him with ease. Once she was fully seated, Tom let out a guttural groan. He could never get used to this feeling.</p><p>“You’re so tight, lovie.” She mewled. “So perfectly snug around me. Just like you were made for me.”</p><p>Tom didn’t recognize himself when he spoke to her; it was like he morphed into a different person–more gentle, vulnerable, <em>human</em>. Less of a shell of a man and more of a man worthy of her affection.</p><p>With a roll of her hips, Tom released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She squeezed him so well, her walls engulfing him with each slow movement, he swore he saw stars. Was this what true love felt like? Like a gradual wave, a slow build up to a moment of pure bliss you would never want to come down from.</p><p>A part of Tom felt guilty she was doing all the work, but the way she moved over him, a thin shimmer of sweat on her perfect skin, he felt it would take away from the moment if he said anything. Later. When he was healed, he would show her how he would never fail to take care of her for as long as she’ll have him.</p><p>“Tommy, I’m getting close.” He felt Y/N clench around him, faint pulsing echoing in his cock to let him know he was right there with her.</p><p>“I know, darling. Me too.” His hands gripped her waist tighter, helping her as much as he could without hurting himself more. Her fluid movements were laving him in a level of ecstasy he had never known. “I love you so much.”</p><p>She leaned down and fastened their lips together, riding him slow and steady through to the end when bursts of hot white pleasure erupted through him as she pulsed around him. The way she cried his name in pure bliss would forever be burned into his memory. He’d do anything to hear the way she calls his name like an earnest prayer for the rest of his life.</p><p>Tom hadn’t realised he was mumbling until his breathing started to steady. “I love you, I love you, I love you” died on the tip of his tongue when Y/N’s finger brushed over his bottom lip before placing a kiss over her previous touch.</p><p>“I love you too,” she said before slipping off to go to the bathroom.</p><p>And it finally hit him that she was truly his.</p><p>For after all the conquering, this one was the one he was most proud of because he had not conquered her at all. If anything, the tables were flipped. She was immune to his persuasions, sure of her choices, unwavering in her reluctance to be a part of the kingdom he ruled with an iron fist.</p><p>Tom had not seen her coming. She rode like a Trojan horse into his castle, stormed the gates of his heart, trampled and twisted all logic he held dear to his conscience. And she did it all with a smile pasted to her sweet face, a weapon as deadly to him as a loaded gun. He knew he was doomed from the moment he laid his head into her lap that fateful afternoon months ago. If someone had informed him about the lengths he would go to keep her safe, Tom would have laughed in their face. No one could sway Tom’s one-track mind from its all too quickly altering course.</p><p>But then Y/N.</p><p>She managed to get under his skin, plague his mind, wring his heart like no other woman. The worst part was she wasn’t even trying. The way Tom succumbed to her so easily, ready to make her his queen, was truly unfathomable. Who would have guessed that the big, bad mobster was a softy in disguise?</p><p>“Tommy?” He angled his head to look at her. She emerged from the bathroom wearing his shirt. “Do you want to take a bath with me?”</p><p>The steam curled, drifting to the high ceilings in ghostly wisps. Y/N insisted Tom lean against her, so he sat between her legs, back resting against her chest. He sighed into the warmth of the water, the welcome embrace of her arms wrapping around him as they settled into the large tub.</p><p>“Let me wash your hair?” she asked, already raking her hands through his unruly locks.</p><p>“Darling, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” Tom protested. But he was quickly shut down as her nails scratched at his scalp soothingly.</p><p>“You need to be pampered too, handsome.”</p><p>Tom was grateful he was facing away from her so she didn’t catch sight of the sweeping pink taking over his cheeks. “If you insist.”</p><p>The next time he opened his eyes, Y/N was peppering light kisses to his neck, stirring him awake. He must have dozed off as she carefully cleansed his hair, and judging by the amount of suds in the water, his body too. Tom felt like he was floating, her fingers still tracing patterns on his scalp, soft lips grazing his sensitive neck.</p><p>Her voice, soft as a tune, asked, “Do you feel better now, Tommy?”</p><p>He could merely hum, for words felt too heavy on his tongue to speak. He could feel her giggle behind him, and he cracked a smile at how easily he sinks into her world.</p><p>“Don’t make me come back there,” Tom threatened.</p><p>“Maybe I want you to.”</p><p>Angling his head so he could peer at her face, his heart leaped in his chest when he found her biting down on her bottom lip to repress a smirk. “You’re in for it as soon as I’m better.”</p><p>When the water grew cold and Tom’s stomach rumbled in hunger, they reluctantly left the tub to start the day–their new life, really–together.</p><p>As Tom stood in front of the mirror buttoning up his shirt to prepare for a debriefing he was certain would take place sometime today, his mind was elsewhere. It was back to that night of the club opening, back to imagining his queen standing next to him like his mother next to his father. He had been through hell and out the other side since then, but he finally got the girl.</p><p>As Y/N slipped into the image behind him, a warm smile graced his lips. She settled in next to him, her arms wrapped around him loosely.</p><p>“Is it over, Tommy?” she asked quietly.</p><p>“With what, darling?”</p><p>“The Rockland’s.”</p><p>“No,” he sighed wearily as he buttoned the cuffs of his shirt. “No, it will never be over.”</p><p>Her arms wrapped tighter around him, and Tom placed a hand over hers delicately–a perfect replica of the photograph hanging in his father’s office. “I won’t let them hurt you. Never again.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“But there will be war.”</p><p>She placed a kiss to his shoulder. “As long as you come home to me.”</p><p>“Always.”</p>
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